The Mind's Eye of Desperation
by ShadowMajin
Summary: Sequel to Rise of the Fifty Daggers. When the League is unable to make headway with a case, they turn to the man that tried to destroy them. What he finds is bigger than anything they could have imagined.
1. It Started With A Monster

Hello again, ShadowMajin here. Here is the next in AnonymousVoid and my series, the second Justice League story, and AV once again opting out. This one was admittedly slow to develop for me, unlike the previous stories, but I think I managed to iron out some of the bugs in it. Hope everyone enjoys.

* * *

Like most stories, this one started with a monster.

" _GL, is it just me or is anyone getting a craving for seafood?"_

Along with a bad joke as was routine these days.

"Stop thinking with your stomach, Flash," John Stewart warned, floating high in the air. Feeling the familiar warmth generated by his ring as he summoned his will, the Green Lantern extended his arm out, aiming his fist at the monster-of-the-week and fired a blast of green energy.

The beam raced through the air until it collided with the monster's side, causing an explosion that send smoke and dust flying in all directions. As the dissipating smoke, it was soon revealed that nothing happened, not even a mark to show for the attack. Considering the monster's body looked like a giant, white seashell, that sort of made sense. Unfortunately, it also annoyed John.

From where he floated, he could see a red blur streaking around the monster. Every so often a giant lobster claw would swing out from underneath the shell, but it never came close to hitting Flash. John wasn't sure what the man was doing, but it sure wasn't slowing this thing down.

" _Ya know, I know we just found out about that Atlantis place, but would it be considered rude if we got their king to order the hermit crab here back to its home? It's sorta his thing and all,"_ Flash said through the comm link.

"As if he'd take our call," John snorted before he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Swooping down through the air, Hawkgirl dove towards the monster, electricity dancing around the head of her mace as she let out a war cry. The moment she reached striking distance, she swung the mace, slamming it down hard on the shell. A wave of electricity rippled out, but like John's previous attack, produced no effect. Lifting back off, the Thanagarian took to the skies again.

That made John scowl even more. Reaching a hand to his ear, he hit the button to allow him to speak. "Superman, how far out are you?"

The response was instant. " _Just a minute out. Diana and I are almost there."_

Good, they needed a little more muscle than what they had. Returning his attention to the monster he couldn't help but scowl as he saw how far away it had crawled from the bay, closing in on the civilian population. It seemed they needed to buy a little time.

Dropping through the air, John headed right for the monster, powering up his ring again. Coming to a stop, he once more aimed his ring at the moving white shell and unleashed the green energies. A beam of light closed in on the monster before it split into two. Circling around the monster, the light beams wrapped around it several times until it looked like a green belt tied around a moving white mountain. Immediately, John felt himself be pulled forward, causing him to lean backwards as he gritted his teeth. Damn, this thing had some power behind it!

"Flash! Hawkgirl! I'm not sure how long I can last like this, but we need to slow it down now!" he barked into his comm link. His arm felt as if it would wrenched right out of his socket, which only fueled his will to pull it back.

" _Roger that, GL,"_ Flash answered before he streaked off further down the street from the monster. He didn't go all that far, surprisingly, stopping perhaps a block down. From where John could see, it looked as if the red-clad hero was kneeling on the ground.

Then, something black and round went flying from Flash towards the monster. A second later, a deep-throated groan—or maybe a roar; there was no telling with this thing—rang out. It took John a moment to realize what Flash had done. If he wasn't mistaken, the man had hurled the lid of a manhole at the giant hermit crab and successfully hit it in the face. At the very least, John wasn't feeling the pulling anymore.

Suddenly, John lurched forward. Scratch that, the force was back and stronger than ever. Grunting, he pulled back as hard as he could, his eyes closing from the strain.

" _John! Look out!"_ Hawkgirl suddenly cried out.

Eyes snapping open, John saw a humongous tentacle right in front of him. Before he could so much as gasp, much less react, the tentacle head slammed into him, breaking off his concentration as he was sent flying through the air, a shocked yell ringing out from him. His green construct vanished from around the monster a split-second later, unfortunately unleashing it upon the city.

Tumbling out of control, John was unable to right himself, not before he crashed hard on what he thought was the roof of a building. That didn't stop his fall though, as he continued to drop, only stopping when his back landed hard on something wooden. He only knew that because he heard the familiar sound of snapping wood and felt jagged pieces of splinters digging into his back.

"Ow," he groaned, eyes squeezed shut. Shaking his head, John opened his eyes and stared straight up. Right away he saw the hole in the ceiling, the one he undoubtedly made. Glancing around, he found himself in what best looked like a warehouse—made sense since they were fighting just outside a harbor. Good thing this box of weapons broke his fall, otherwise things would…

 _Hold up, box of weapons?_

Looking down, John couldn't help but notice that he was indeed lying on top of a stockpile of rifles—but not just any rifle either. Alarm welled up within the Green Lantern. What the Hell were these things doing here? This sort of tech wasn't supposed to be on Earth!

"What the Hell?" he murmured before static went off in his ear.

" _Hey, GL! Buddy! You okay?"_

"Yeah, swell," John replied as he slowly began to pick himself out of the pile he laid on.

" _Sweet! Just to let ya know, Big Blue is here and he's handling things."_

Good, that was one less thing to worry about. As he stood on his feet, the Green Lantern looked down at the rifles, a worried frown on his face. Thanks to his extensive travels throughout space, he knew a plasma rifle when he saw one. They were about as plentiful in space as handguns were in the States, probably more so considering the billions of races out in the cosmos and their tendency to make the exact same weaponry, their different designs aside.

It seemed he had a mystery on his hands.

* * *

"So what you're saying is you fell onto this box when you were hit by the tentacle," Hawkgirl summed up.

The Thanagarian was standing next to John, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at the stockpile. On the Green Lantern's opposite side was J'onn, known to the world as the Martian Manhunter. The moment John had alerted the rest of the group to his discovery, the Martian had been requested to join the scene.

That left Flash, Superman, and Wonder Woman for clean up. Currently the speedster was cleaning up debris from the streets, reassuring citizens the attack was over and done with, that everything was under control. Superman and Wonder Woman were hauling the monster back to sea, Diana's lasso restraining it as they both used their super-strength to move it. Unsurprisingly, the battle had come to a quick end when those two arrived, much to the cheers of Metropolis.

Which brought them to the present. "And you are sure no such weapon exists on the planet?" J'onn asked.

"Positive," John answered, nodding to emphasize his word. "There's a lot of different weapons on Earth, no doubt about that, but never of this sophistication or destructive power."

"Oh, so you suppose atom bombs aren't that destructive," Hawkgirl mocked, earning her a scowl from the dark-skinned man.

"You know what I mean," he snapped. "These have the power of tanks in small, hand-held packages. Not just anyone packs that kind of power in their waistbands."

"Okay, okay, chill," the Thanagarian responded, rolling her eyes as she did so. "So how did they get here? It wasn't like they were just moved here."

"That's why you and J'onn are here. You're our resident detectives."

Before Hawkgirl could answer with something just as annoying as her sarcasm, J'onn spoke up. "I believe it would be prudent if we discover who owns this warehouse and then obtain the shipping records to determine how long these guns have been here."

"Good idea," John said, looking to the Martian. "I'm sure you two can handle that on your own, right?"

"Of course. What will you be doing?"

"I'm going to inform the others of what we found here. I'm sure there are other avenues that can be explored, especially from Superman since this is his town."

J'onn nodded his acceptance. "A wise idea. We will rendezvous at headquarters."

"Roger that." A green aura appearing around his form, the Green Lantern lifted himself into the air, flying up through the hole in the roof. He could pick up Hawkgirl mumbling something sarcastic beneath him, but it wasn't worth the effort to bother listening. She was headstrong and quick to anger, two things one would think would be counter-productive for an investigation. How she was a detective on her home planet, he wasn't sure, but she had pretty good results here to argue for her expertise.

And as it turned out, his timing was perfect. Superman and Diana were returning from their trip, closing in on him from the bay. "Hey, John," the Kryptonian greeted him as he slowed to a stop next to him, his Amazon companion doing the same. "You said you found something here?"

John nodded. "That's right. Plasma rifles, definitely not from this planet."

Superman's eyes narrowed. "How long?"

"J'onn and Hawkgirl are working on that right now. We figured since this is your town, you had other ideas on how to investigate."

The dark-haired man remained silent as he dropped his eyes to the warehouse. Faintly, he muttered, "That isn't a Luthor building."

That seemed to mean something to him, though John suspected that was the Kryptonian's go-to thought when something bad happened here. Then again, he had plenty of experience that reinforced that line of thinking. It wasn't exactly a secret that one of the richest men in Metropolis had an intense dislike for the Man of Steel and that the feeling was mutual. Turning his attention to Diana, he could see she was floating patiently to see what order she was given. Usually she was more outspoken than this, but considering they were on a known superhero's turf, she was being deferential to his wishes.

Finally, Superman spoke, "I think there are a couple things I can look into. Have everyone meet up this evening at Happy Harbor. We'll compare findings there."

* * *

Happy Harbor had once been a quiet fishing village in Rhode Island. Sleepy and scenic, no one would have thought it would grow past a few thousand people in population. That all changed when the Justice League built their headquarters here. Now, it was a popular tourist attraction, bringing in hundreds of thousands of people just to get a glimpse at a possible superhero sighting.

Now if only the city council would give them a tax break.

Within the League's headquarters was a meeting room. It was rather plain aside from the round table that occupied the middle of it, six chairs surrounding it. Sitting in those chairs were each member of the League. Most of the time spent here was over routine maintenance plans, updates on security and criminal activity, and the like. It wasn't often they discussed a volatile case, though this one was proving to be the exception.

"As everyone knows by now, Green Lantern found a stash of advanced weaponry at a warehouse during an attack on Metropolis," Superman summarized. His blue eyes glanced from face to face, seeing the seriousness on each and every one of them save the Flash. Flash was currently stuffing his face with a hotdog, smearing mustard on his lips, cheeks, and chin.

"From what we were able to gather, the warehouse belongs to a Metropolis socialite: Frederick Dorsey. The Dorsey family is part of the shipping industry and holds at least a sixth of all ports on the East Coast.

"Which brings us to the warehouse itself. J'onn, Hawkgirl?" At this, Superman placed all of his attention on the two, handing control of the meeting to them.

"Well, there's something rotten going on here," Hawkgirl was the first to speak. "J'onn and I went over every record in the warehouse and conveniently that particular box wasn't listed as being there. In fact, we found several more crates that weren't listed either. Care to guess what those boxes had?"

"Oooh! I know, I know!" Flash suddenly shouted, waving a hand high above his head. "Pick me! Pick me! I know the answer!" Upon seeing the Thanagarian give him an unamused look, he said, "They were full of space guns, right?"

"That's right, Flash. They were," the redhead deadpanned, though that didn't do anything to dampen the speedster's mood. Regardless, she carried out with her report. "Strange thing though, no one who worked in the warehouse even knew they were there. None of them remembered moving them in. As far as any of them were concerned, those crates had always been there."

"Seems too convenient," John grunted. "How many of them were lying?"

Hawkgirl turned her attention to the Green Lantern. "Well, that's where things get complicated. While J'onn here is no Lasso of Truth, he was able to read their surface thoughts. Tell them what you told me, J'onn."

The Martian took over as requested. "None of the workers' thoughts were malicious or secretive. As far as I can tell, they were all innocent."

"Tell me you dug deeper than just that," John replied.

J'onn nodded. "I did. Again, they were just as surprised about those crates as we were."

"Which brings us to Dorsey," Diana spoke up. "Surely he must know about these weapons."

"He could be just as clueless about this whole thing too," Hawkgirl pointed out. "After all, I doubt rich boy here would physically check each and every warehouse he owns every day; he has people to do that for him. All someone would have to do is claim those boxes weren't there and he'd believe it."

The Amazon countered, "It doesn't hurt to try."

"Of course it wouldn't," Superman agreed. "Unfortunately, Dorsey isn't an easy man to get a hold of. I've tried setting up a meeting with him, but I've been rebuffed every time."

There was a silence at the table before Flash broke up. "Whoa, you telling me a guy from Metropolis _doesn't_ want to meet the Man of Steel? Isn't the entire city apart of your fanclub at this point?"

A rueful smile appeared on the Kryptonian's face. "Not everyone likes me in Metropolis."

"Does it have anything to do with that Luthor guy? I hear you guys get along like oil and water."

"I don't see how Luthor isn't involved with this," Diana interjected. "Unless he's pulling strings?" she added as a suggestion.

Superman shook his head in the negative. "It's nothing like that. Flash is right, Lex Luthor and I don't get along and that's influenced a lot of Metropolis' elite. There's not many that like having me in the same room unless I'm there to push their agendas along—sponsorship deals and the like. They only want me around when it benefits them. If they hear I want to meet them, they suddenly go on vacations to the Bahamas."

"So Dorsey is a prime suspect so far," John said.

"Person of interest," J'onn corrected him.

"Okay, so then one of us other than Big Blue tries to meet him," Flash suggested. "I vote for Wonder Woman. I'm sure this guy would be more than willing to keep her company."

"I doubt that would work now," Hawkgirl retorted. "Dorsey knows Superman wants to talk with him; he also should know by now that the League has found his weapon stash, so anyone of us will also be blacklisted at this point, including Diana. Especially Diana."

"Then perhaps we need to visit him uninvited," the Amazon proposed, a hint of steel in her voice. It was obvious she wasn't in the mood for "Man's World" politics.

"And do what? Tie him up with your lasso and force the truth out of him?" Hawkgirl snarked. "Tell me again which senator is pushing a bill through Congress to make any admission obtained by your lasso inadmissible?"

"Pretty sure two of them wrote that bill," Flash added before he began to slurp loudly on the straw of his supersized soft drink. "And so far at least twenty of them are supporting it."

"So that puts us in quite a bind," John summed up. "We need to talk to Dorsey, he doesn't want to meet even one of us by now, and interrogating him with Diana's lasso is treading thin ice at the moment. What about J'onn reading his mind. or Superman using his super-hearing to listen in?"

Superman spoke up then. "You know, now that you mention it, I haven't been able to hear a thing around Dorsey's office or home. When I was trying to get in touch with him, I didn't pick up on anything. It was like a dead zone for sounds."

"Oh, he's hiding something alright," John growled.

"If he is, then all of Metropolis is," Hawkgirl pointed out. "I'm pretty sure most businesses in the city are making sure Superman can't overhear their corporate strategy. They probably began soundproofing their office suites before this Luthor situation happened."

"Actually," Superman spoke up, "soundproofing doesn't really work. All that really does is dampen the sounds to the point it can't be heard from room to room. My hearing can still pick up voices, though they're a lot softer than they usually would have been. In this case with Dorsey, I'm not even hearing their air conditioning units turning on and I'm standing right next to them."

Another silence loomed over then, this time lingering. Ultimately it was J'onn who broke it, voicing his musings. "It would seem there is more to this than illegally-stored weapons. The sort of technology necessary to cancel out sounds that close would have to be advanced." He paused before asking, "Am I safe to assume this office building is also lined with lead?"

The Kryptonian nodded. "It is, but only certain rooms."

"So this leaves us with what?" Flash inquired. "We have to get close to this guy to figure out about the guns and why he can suddenly shut out Supes' eavesdropping? On top of that, he won't see us because he thinks we're onto him and doing things less than legal, while it would work, would make convicting him that much harder, or at the very least putting him in jail? Does that about sum it up?"

There were several eyes blinking owlishly at the speedster before John smirked. "Yeah, that about sums it up well."

"Huh, that sucks. Wonder what kind of person could open this guy up?"

"Obviously a person the complete opposite of us," Hawkgirl retorted.

Suddenly, Superman jolted in his seat, drawing everyone's attention to him. "I think you're onto something there, Hawkgirl." This time it was his turn to be on the receiving end of bewildered looks, ones he deftly ignored. "I believe we're going to have to outsource this investigation."

"Whoa, whoa, hold up," Flash interjected, pushing himself up in his seat. "Outsource? To who? It's not like we're Nike and can hire a sweatshop in Indonesia to do all our dirty work."

"What we need is someone that Dorsey would be willing to open up to, who could get close and make him spill his guts." Superman's eyes seemed to glaze over before they lit up. It was as if he were mentally approving this idea, working out the bugs right in front of the other heroes as they looked on curiously. "There's a party two nights from now. Dorsey's already RSVPed it, so he'll definitely be there."

John raised an eyebrow, looking to Hawkgirl and Flash who returned his confused look with ones of their own. "Uhh, party?" he asked. "You're saying we're going to get someone to infiltrate a party so he can interrogate our top suspect?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, John," the Kryptonian replied. He then looked to J'onn. "J'onn, think you can locate someone for me?"

The Martian nodded his acceptance. "I can. Who am I looking for?"


	2. The Offer

Bright light burned against his eyelids, causing the dark-haired man to twist away, grab his pillow, and stuff it over his face. A groan echoed from his mouth in protest, his bed sheets tangling up around his legs.

It was too damn early for this. Staying out all night was not conducive to early morning wake-up calls. Unfortunately, his interloper would not be denied. His bed sheet and comforter were suddenly torn away from, leaving him exposed to the cool air in the room.

Groaning again, Bruce turned over in bed as he removed his face from his pillow, his ruffled hair sticking out in every which direction with a glare settling on his face. Standing up at the edge of his bed, her silhouette framed by the sunlight pouring through the open curtains, was Cassandra, an unsympathetic look on her face. "Up," she ordered, arms crossed over her chest defiantly as she regarded him like a disapproving parent hovering over her reluctant teenaged child.

Bruce did not like the comparison.

To be honest, her approach to waking him up was not all that unsimilar to Alfred's. Whereas the butler would pull the curtains open and gently urge him out of bed, Cassandra was...rougher. Though she could hardly talk in the year they had spent trying to teach her to, one of the few words she had managed to retain was up.

Dear Lord, how he had grown to hate that word.

"Have I ever told you how much you need to improve your bedside manner?" the billionaire asked as he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to touch down on the carpeted floor. In response, the girl gave a sharp nod, but continued to face him down.

Faintly, Bruce wondered just what he had gotten himself into. The night he had pulled this girl out of the clutches of the Court of Owls, he somehow had become responsible for her. She had been nameless, the only knowledge she possessed involved multiple ways to kill a person.

Since then, she had learned much more. Wayne Manor had fallen into some disarray without its usual caretaker, but Cassandra proved to be a quick learner. The house wasn't immaculate, but it was functioning again. The chores Bruce had taught her—yes, by him; he wasn't completely unable to clean and cook; he had lived without Alfred's care for a number of years, forcing him to learn them or starve trying—had given her a different purpose, one she had taken to with gusto. However, that only placated her for so long.

In fact, the one thing that really drove her these days was her speaking lessons. Day after day, the two of them would sit down and Bruce would hold up a card with a single, solitary word on it. It had been part of a deck he had found among old baby stuff, boxed up by his mother so long again. They would review the words she knew first before moving onto one she had yet to learn. Depending on how well she did, they could do up to two words, though most times she would come away without much progress. Those were the most discouraging session for her; on the other hand, ones she came away with a new word was like watching a small child experiencing Christmas for the first time.

"Up," she repeated then, pulling Bruce out of his reverie.

"Alright, alright, I'm up," he grunted before he stood up. A pair of boxer briefs was the only thing he wore, something he rectified by trudging over to a small dresser, a set of pajama bottoms haphazardly lying on top of them. Grabbing them, he pulled on the pants before reaching for a nearby matching robe. Pulling that on as well, he then walked towards the door, left open by his nuisance of an alarm clock. Behind him, said clock was trailing behind. He didn't hear her, her footsteps were as silent as his, but her presence was unmistakable.

Silently, the two made their way to the grand staircase, climbing down it before they split up. Bruce could guess where Cassandra was going, but it didn't really matter much considering they would both end up in the same place. Moving along, he headed for his study, entering the room, and eyeing the grandfather clock.

A sigh escaped his lips. It was unfortunate that it was a weekend. He usually found himself in the depths of the cave on these days, working on a never-ending case, or so it seemed. Still, it was one close to both of them and he would be damned if he didn't see it through.

Approaching the clock, he opened its face and spun the hands until they unlocked the locking mechanism. A deep, audible click was made and the clock swung forward. Pushing it aside, Bruce passed through entrance in the wall and descended down the staircase. It wasn't long until he found himself standing within the cave. The lights hanging from the ceiling were lit, revealing the facility he had built so long ago.

Walking once more, he approached the nerve center of the entire place, the massive super-computer. It was on, the screen flickering over a multitude of images as it performed an analysis. This had been one that had been running since he returned from his patrol last night, so it was no shock to see it still running.

That's when he felt Cassandra's presence again. A moment later, the girl appeared in his peripheral vision, setting a tray on the console in front of him. Glancing to it, he noticed a plate with scrambled eggs, a bowl of oatmeal, and a cup of coffee on top of the tray. Minimalistic to be sure, but the girl hadn't gotten the hang of making the more intricate breakfasts Alfred would. Also, Cassandra probably learned that it wasn't worth the effort to make elaborate meals when he regularly skipped them.

Reaching out, he grabbed the cup by its handle and brought it to his lips. The drink was bitter to his tongue as he sipped on it, lowering it slightly as he stared back at the monitor.

Almost as if the computer were psychic, a new window popped up, listing what appeared to be several recent transactions. This caused both of them to sharpen their attention on the screen.

Someone had screwed up and thought Bruce wouldn't have caught it. Reading the data, he quickly found the target's name: Theodore van Haussen. He had done his best to go underground following his Court's attack on Gotham, but even he was susceptible to the needs of money.

Considering all the other Court of Owl members he'd hunted down, this made him next in line to be caught.

The Talon Attacks had been eye-opening for most Gothamites. To learn that the city's rich and powerful craved even more power and were determined to kill anyone that stood in their way had changed quite a bit. The number of galas and charity balls hosted by the elite had sharply dwindled, mostly due to every single person in the Top 1 percent bracket coming under police and public scrutiny. That even included Bruce Wayne, though revealing an attack by a Talon that night quickly ended that investigation.

Of course, the supposed attack on him in his own house had been staged considering he hadn't been home that entire night.

Ever since, Batman had been tracking the Court's fleeing members across the globe. Many had slipped out of town following his announcement early in the night of their existence, but despite the Court's uncanny ability to hide itself within the city for decades, these members became incredibly sloppy abroad. Money trails, paper trails, it was obvious none of these people had been on the run before, and they were acting as if they still had the Court's umbrella to protect them.

The Batman had been glad to show them otherwise.

It was even during one of these arrests that he had learned Cassandra's name. It had come from Joseph Powers himself, who demanded to know what he had done with the girl following David Cain's destruction of the Powers Hotel's upper floors. Apparently the girl had cost quite a penny to train and mold and Powers was not pleased his investment wasn't making dividends for him.

That was when Cassandra became interested in the investigation. Any tidbit of information about her that the Court of Owls kept she wanted to know. Her previous participation had been scant before then; now, she was fully a part of it.

As it turned out, Cain had been distrustful of the Court for quite some time. As a contingency, he imparted information about various court members should they turn against him—information that included addresses, safe houses, and other useful pieces of intel an assassin would need to avenge their fallen teacher should he be betrayed. At least that's what Bruce suspected was the reason why Cain imparted this knowledge to his untested protege. It was this information the billionaire took from the girl and furthered his investigation by years. Since he knew who and where to look, finding each person's mistakes had become child's play.

Finishing his reading, the dark-haired man murmured, "Berlin, hmm?" He then looked over to Cassandra, who stared at the monitor like a hawk. "It seems I'll be gone for more than a day this time," he addressed her, causing the girl to turn her attention to him. "Think you can keep the house standing while I'm gone?"

The dark-haired girl gave him a sharp nod in answer.

With the corner of his mouth twitching up, Bruce then turned back to the computer and began drawing up all the information he had on van Haussen. It would be night time soon in Berlin and he wanted to make sure it was the last free night the man enjoyed.

* * *

The moment the door open, Dick Grayson knew it wasn't a good time. Seated at the edge of the bed was Barbara, her legs dangling over the edge as a woman in scrubs stood in front of her, hands on the redhead's shoulders.

"I take it I'm interrupting things?" the young man quipped.

"Kind of," Barbara grunted as she looked at him over her shoulder. "We just started."

"I can come back if that's what you want."

"Actually," the young woman said before looking to the brunette in front of her, "can we have a few minutes?"

The woman in scrubs let out an annoyed snort before replying, "Just a few minutes alright? We have a lot of exercises to go through." Taking that as his cue, Dick entered the room, and took a seat behind Barbara, resting a hand on her back. The physical therapist withdrew her hands once she was sure her client was steady and made to leave.

Just as she reached the door though, Tim came bungling in, nearly running over her. "Oh, sorry, sorry!" he repeatedly apologized. The therapist rolled her eyes, but ignored him. "Well, that was rude," the younger man remarked as he watched the woman's exit. Shrugging his shoulders, he closed the door behind him to give them some privacy.

"So, you both came," Barbara said, a sigh in her voice. "You two didn't really have to do that."

"What? Not visit you? What kind of friends would we be if we did that?" Dick replied, attempting to joke, though the expression on the redhead's face clearly showed she was in no mood for humor. "Rough day, huh?"

"Yeah. It's PT from Hell and they're adamant at making me do the most painful things imaginable. If I didn't know this was good for me, I'd swear they were just trying to torture me."

Dick resisted the urge to groan. This was going to be one of those days, where Barbara was irreconcilable, not that he blamed her. After what happened—the damage to her spine—she was having a rough time of it.

It didn't help that she still thought about her membership with the Batclan.

There were days where it seemed the redhead was determined to reclaim her mantle of Batgirl and then there were others where she cursed the day she ever put on the mask. It just depended on how well her day was going, really. Never mind that she needed to focus on just getting functional.

"Did the therapist say how you were doing?" Tim asked.

"Oh you know, same old, same old. 'You're making excellent progress,' 'You need to keep trying,' blah, blah, blah." Her face hardened then. "Whatever it takes to get out of here and back onto the streets, right?"

And now came the reality check of the conversation, which had been cropping up more and more every time they talked. "Barbara, let's just focus on you getting well, okay?" the dark-haired man said soothingly.

That turned out to be the wrong thing to say. Whipping her head to him, a glare appeared on Barbara's face. "Just because I'm like this doesn't mean I'm finished being Batgirl. That's who I am, no matter what you, Tim—"

"Don't bring me into this," Tim pipped in, holding his hand up to ward off the accusation.

"—the damn therapists, or the Talon that performed spinal surgery on me say. I started this group and I sure as hell am not going to let it cast me aside because it's convenient!" With every word Barbara said, her voice got more and more hysterical. Tears were appearing at the corners of her eyes, which only made Dick even more uncomfortable as it was.

"Babs, we're not trying to replace you," Tim spoke calmly. "But we do have to face the fact that your situation has changed. There are some things that—"

"Some things like what? Walking? Running? Jumping up and down like a hyperactive toddler?" The redhead glared at the youth. "Why beat around the bush and just come out and say it? I can't use my legs."

The door flew open then, the physical therapist poking her head in. "I heard raised voices. Is something going on in here?"

"Not a thing," Barbara replied flippantly. "My _friends_ were just about to leave."

This time Dick did sigh. They weren't going anywhere with this, not the way Barbara was acting. "We'll come back some other time," he said as he stood up, just in time for the brunette woman to return to her spot in front of Barbara. "You take care, okay?"

"Whatever."

* * *

The door opened and Theo van Haussen strolled into the room, whistling something that was very off-tune. The blinds were open, allowing the full moon to light up the room, giving everything a pale glow. Apparently Mr. van Haussen wasn't intending on staying for long.

He would find out that he was mistaken to think that way.

Walking pass expensive furniture and decorations, he made a beeline for his large oak desk, stopping in front of it as his hands began sweeping the top for something. Files, documents, anything was possible at this point.

In an instant, the dark-clad man sent a shuriken spinning through the air, the projectile passing right next to the man and made a dull _thud_ as one end embedded itself into the wood. van Haussen gasped as he jumped backwards, his eyes locking in on the metal bat sticking out of his desk.

"You didn't think you'd gotten off free, did you?" Batman asked as he emerged from the shadows, his feet silently crossing the carpet as van Haussen spun around to face him. The moment he caught sight of the Dark Knight, the rich man backed right into the desk, causing the legs to scrape on the floor. The man lost his balance for a moment, reaching a hand back to steady himself as the vigilante closed in on him. Narrowing his eyes, Batman could see van Haussen begin to blindly search for something, anything that could be used as a weapon as his head danced sporadically across the desk, knocking more things over.

Allowing his cape to cover the right side of his body, Batman pulled out another bat-shaped shuriken and readied it. The instant van Haussen found something he deemed usable for his defense, the dark-clad whipped his hidden arm out, sending the projectile flying. The shuriken collided with van Haussen's hand, knocking his make-shift weapon out of his grasp as he let out a pained cry.

As he leaned to one side, gripping his injured hand, Batman took that time to close the remaining distance between them. The moment he was within striking distance, the Dark Knight slammed a fist against his face, knocking the man back onto his desk, a scream ringing out into the room.

Immediately, Batman grabbed his target by the collar of his shirt and hauled him up so they could look each other eye-to-eye. "You and I need to have a long talk, van Haussen," he growled lowly. "Or trust me, you won't be walking out of this room on both feet."

van Haussen stared into his blank, white lens, gulping as his own eyes shown with terror. "Ich...ich weiß nicht, was du redest. Ich habe nichts zu tun…"

Seeing the scowl that covered Batman's face, van Haussen wisely trailed off. If he thought he could pretend to only speak German, he had another thing coming. Considering he and Bruce Wayne shared similar social circles, he knew the rich man could speak fluent English; in fact, he was a native-born American.

So he decided to put this pitiful man in his place. "Sie wissen genau, was ich rede." van Haussen's face paled at the words. Apparently he hadn't expected the vigilante to know German, much less speak it. Then in English, the dark-clad man added, "The Court of Owls—you're a part of it."

"I am no such thing!" van Haussen protested loudly. "I don't, ich nicht—"

Batman's fist interrupted the man's sputtering as it collided with his mouth, silencing him for a brief moment before he cried out. Blood began to trickle down from his lip, where the skin was broken. "Let's try this again," Batman spoke calmly. "You're going to stop treating me like an idiot, or else I'm going to start breaking every bone in your face. If you continue this charade, I'll move onto your collar bone, then your arms, then fingers. Play this however you want, but I'm going to learn everything you know, whether you speak it, or write it. Got it?"

van Haussen's eyes widened as he began to nod his understanding. "I...I understand."

"Good, now tell me where the other Owls are. I want names, addresses, even their pets."

"I...I can't do that! The Court would kill me! Us! You I could care less about, but I will not put my neck on the line for some maniac in a costume!"

"Really?" Batman deadpanned. "Then how do you explain how I found you?" van Haussen narrowed his eyes as he began to process those words. "I found out about you from another of your Owl buddies. He gave me everything I needed to track you down. Last I checked he was still alive."

"Bullshit. I don't believe you."

"Then let's look at this another way. How many of those Talons did you lose that night in Gotham? Losing all of those assassins, not to mention Jervis Tetch's mind control technology set you back a ways. If you still had the resources to dispatch me, you already would have done it."

A smirk appeared on van Haussen's face, not the reaction he was expecting. "What makes you think the Court of Owls doesn't? We have been around for centuries—that's a lot of wealth to pour into a private fighting force, no? You only apprehended a fraction of the Talons, nothing more. An acceptable loss."

This time it was Batman's turn to smirk, which caused van Haussen's to drop slightly. "That right? Then why did you flee Gotham? If the Court has as much power as you claim, you never would have fled to the Cayman Islands, then Madrid, Florence, London...Berlin." With every name he said, the vigilante watched as van Haussen lost his arrogance, eyes widening at just how much the dark-clad man knew. "No, I don't believe you have as much power you claim you have. In fact, I'd say you only had a fraction of what you used to have."

Hatred began to burn from the man's eyes. Face twisting with rage, he snarled, "The Court of Owls is eternal, Batman. We have been around long before you came along and we will be here to feast on your bones when you're gone."

Batman leaned closer to the man's face. "I'm losing my patience with this pissing contest. Tell me what I want to know, or get ready to begin drinking your food through a straw."

van Haussen gave him a haughty look. "I think not."

The doors to the room suddenly swung open, causing both men to jerk their attention to them. Standing within the doorway were two Talons, Each stood armed to the teeth with weapons, obviously ready to strike.

"I believe you won't be leaving this room alive," van Haussen crowed.

Suddenly, something red flashed by the Talons. In an instant, both assassins crashed into either side of the door frame, dropping into heaps on the floor. A breeze ruffled Batman's cape, van Haussen's hair waving as well. For a brief moment, Batman felt confused, something he hadn't felt in quite some time.

That's when someone cleared their throat and both men jerked their heads around to look to a corner of the room. Standing there was a man in head-to-toe red, a lightning bolt emblem emblazoned on his chest, a bright red apple in his hand that he took a generous bite of. "So, hope you guys don't mind if I join the party," the red-clad man quipped around chunks of apple.

Batman felt the beginnings of a growl reverberating up this throat. What the hell was this man, the Flash of all people, doing here? Wasn't he supposed to be in Central City?

That's when van Haussen looked at the Dark Knight with disbelieving eyes. " _You_ brought backup?" he exclaimed incredulously.

"He's _not_ with me," Batman barked back, glaring at the man before turning his scowl onto the Flash. "Get out—now."

"Whoa, hold your horses there, Spooky," Flash said, holding his hands out in what he probably thought was a placating gesture. The effect was slightly ruined with the partially-eaten apple in his hand, not to mention Batman not being in the mood to be treated like a temperamental child. "I'm not here to spoil your dark mojo here. I'm just helping you out, clearing the place of those weird ninja bodyguards."

"I _don't_ need help."

"Never said you did, but it does help speed things up. We're just here to talk."

 _We?_ It didn't take long for Batman to figure out just who "we" was. As if it were timed to perfection, two figures appeared in the windows, floating in midair in their colors of red, blue, and yellow.

 _Goddamn it, not them._

Flash dashed across the room to stand in the opposite corner, but not without unlocking the windows. The panes of glass swung inwards, allowing Superman and Wonder Woman to glide in, touching down on the floor. "Batman," Superman greeted him warmly.

Batman narrowed his eyes, his hands tightening on van Haussen's shirt. There was no way he could continue his interrogation, not the way he needed to do it. These heroes would only get in the way. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Just like Flash told you: to talk," the Kryptonian answered.

"I'm busy," he brushed off before returning his attention to the awestruck Owl beneath him. "The window is right behind you."

"If it's one of your interrogations, perhaps we can be of assistance," Wonder Woman suddenly spoke up. Frowning, Batman looked up in time to see the Amazon holding out her lasso, its strands radiating golden light. "This should speed up the process."

It most surely would. His first instinct was to shoot the idea down, but now wasn't the time. Loosening his grip, he roughly shoved van Haussen down hard on the desk and took a step back. "Tie him up."

"Tie me…" van Haussen trailed off before the golden lasso wrapped around him, tightening as he hissed. "Release me at once!" he screamed.

"The Lasso of Truth compels you to speak the truth," Wonder Woman spoke soothingly. "Anything else will be met with much unpleasantness."

Whatever defiance van Haussen had shown up to this moment suddenly drained out of him. His body language radiated submissiveness, something Batman found disturbing. However, he wasn't going to let this chance go. "Tell me the names of the Court of Owls," he demanded calmly. "Everyone you can think of."

van Haussen looked up at the Dark Knight. There was a moment of quiet before, "Jack Bridges."

This was going to be easier than he thought.

* * *

van Haussen lay on the desk, unconscious from some spell by the Lasso of Truth. Batman wasn't interested enough to press for an explanation—mainly because he was familiar enough with the process.

It paid to have observed it in action many times.

"I take it you're free to talk now?" Superman inquired.

"Depends on what you want," Batman replied, keeping his distance from the three heroes as he allowed his cape to envelop his body. One of his hands rested just above the pouch that contained his shuriken, though it was perhaps a useless gesture. These were the three fastest members of the so-called Justice League. He wouldn't stand a chance of defending himself if this meeting ended badly.

"Straight to the point then," the Kryptonian spoke before he straightened out his posture. "We have a case that could use your help."

An eyebrow raised beneath Batman's mask. "My help?" he repeated. "What could I possibly do that a telepath, a man with super hearing and x-ray vision, and an Amazon with a truth-seeking rope can't do?"

"The case requires a skill set that the League does not possess," Wonder Woman replied diplomatically. "If you wouldn't mind, perhaps we can take this conversation elsewhere to discuss it?"

"I decline," Batman retorted before he spun around on his feet and began walking to the door. He caught the surprised looks on the League's faces out of the corner of his eye before he fully turned.

"Won't you hear us out?" Superman asked, a stunned tone in his voice.

Batman didn't even stop as he replied, "I don't need to hear anything that I'm not going to be apart of. Now go back to Metropolis and—"

Suddenly, Flash was standing right in front of him, a hand extended out to press against the vigilante's cape-covered chest, causing him to stop in his tracks. "Now hold on a second, Bats. We really do need your help. Hearing us out isn't going to cost you much."

Batman looked down at the hand touching him before he looked the Flash in the eyes. "You have two seconds to get out of my way."

That was when Superman and Wonder Woman moved up behind him, the three surrounding him on all sides. He barely caught Superman saying, "Four for transport," before a bright light suddenly erupted around them. Batman couldn't help squeezing his eyes shut as his body was overwhelmed with a pulling sensation. The moment that feeling disappeared, he opened his eyes and he was less than pleased where he found himself.

Gone was van Haussen's home office and in its stead was a large room of steel with computer stations all over the place. The vigilante and his kidnappers were standing on a dais, blue glowing circles beneath each of their feet. A short distance away stood Hawkgirl and Green Lantern, the Martian Manhunter standing behind one of the computer stations.

"So, they actually got him," Hawkgirl said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Immediately, Batman twisted around and shot a hand out, grabbing Superman by the front of his costume and pulling him towards him. Leaning in, the vigilante growled menacingly, "Send. Me. Back. _Now._ "

"Reluctantly apparently," the Green Lantern spoke up, his arms crossed over his chest.

Flash was suddenly standing between them, leaning towards the green-glowing man with an elbow resting on his shoulder. "You don't know the half of it."

Wonder Woman rested one of her hands on the dark-clad man's outstretched arm. "Please, I promise we won't take much of your time. Just hear us out and if you still refuse, we will return you to Berlin."

Batman's eyes shifted over to her unwavering blue ones. There was something calming about the look she directed at him; it unsettled him. Letting go of Superman, Batman dropped his arm and subsequently removed it from the Amazon's grasp. "Be quick about it."

She indicated a doorway with a nod of her head. "Follow me." Doing as she suggested, the Dark Knight followed her through the door and into a hall, the other Leaguers falling in line behind him. It wasn't long before they entered some sort of meeting room, a large round table in the middle of it with six chairs. Coming to a stop in front of it, Batman watched as the other heroes circled the table and began taking their seats, the Flash and Hawkgirl moving their chairs so they could look at him properly.

Superman started things off. "A couple days ago, John found a stash of highly-advanced weapons in Metropolis."

"How advanced?" Batman interjected, directing his stony gaze to the Kryptonian.

Stewart was the one to answer him. "As in they shouldn't be on Earth. These sort of weapons are more common in other sectors of space, not in a backwater planet like ours."

This earned the Lantern many looks, ones that made him bow his head with embarrassment. "Sorry, but Earth isn't as technologically advanced as a lot of other planets."

"And you think I would know what to do with them?" Batman asked. "So far, this sounds like something you six should be dealing with, not me."

"We were," Superman responded, earning the Dark Knight's attention once more. "We ran into a dead end with the investigation. The guns were found in a warehouse owned by Frederick Dorsey and he hasn't been cooperative with us in the least."

"So you want me to go interrogate him? Is that it?"

"We were hoping for something a little more subtle."

"Subtle how?"

"There's a party Dorsey is hosting for tomorrow night. If it's at all possible—"

"You want me to infiltrate the Dorsey Gala," Batman interrupted, disgust evident in his voice. This had been a concern of his for the last two years, ever since the seven of them were convalescing on the slopes of Nanda Parbat. Six people he had been charged with eliminating knew his identity and there was no telling how they would use that information. Zatanna had been key to smoothing over that issue, but it continued to linger in the back of his head. Now...now it seemed it was coming to a head. "All so that I can meet with Dorsey and ask him about these weapons."

"That's about it in a nutshell," Flash confirmed.

Batman glanced to each and every one of the heroes, wondering how he could explain to them just how stupid this idea of theirs was. "What makes you think _I_ can get Dorsey to talk about some weapons he keeps in his warehouse?"

"You're Bruce Wayne, aren't you?" Stewart replied. "That gets you into the party without any fuss."

The Dark Knight grounded his teeth together. Just hearing the man toss out his identity so casually was infuriating. "And how would—" he paused long enough to work up the nerve to say, "—Bruce Wayne know what's in Dorsey's warehouse? We hardly do business."

There was a moment of silence before the Martian spoke, "It seems we overlooked a few details."

 _Yes, you did._ It was a testament to the world still being in one piece that these people could overlook such an obvious flaw. If they were responsible for the entire world, then Earth was extremely lucky it hadn't been destroyed by now.

"Aren't you friends?" Superman pressed, a hint of desperation in his voice. Batman suddenly had an epiphany—this was all Superman's idea. He came up with approaching the vigilante and thought he would agree to do this errand of theirs.

"A Metropolis millionaire friends with a Gotham billionaire?" Batman rebuffed. "In case you weren't aware, our social sects rarely intersect. We send invites to each other more out of being nice than actually wanting the other's company."

"This looks like a bust," Hawkgirl remarked. "Sorry for wasting your time, you can go now."

"Hang on now," Flash interjected. "Doesn't this Dorsey guy have like a hundred buildings up and down the East Coast? Surely he owns one in Gotham."

"He doesn't," Batman deadpanned.

"Oh. Nevermind."

"That shouldn't be the issue," Stewart argued then. "What is is these guns can cause massive damage. Just imagine if one of these made it to Gotham period. You're talking about another Gotham Fire easily."

That got the Dark Knight's attention. "That's how powerful these weapons are?"

"Yeah," Lantern replied. "And that's only the tip of the iceberg. There's no telling how many of these weapons are on Earth right now."

Batman resisted the urge to rub his temples. He could feel a headache growing and it had everything to do with this situation. If the Lantern's words were remotely true, there was a serious problem that required an immediately response. Considering they had stumbled upon this, perhaps they could use some more intelligence.

"Alright, I'll do it," he said after awhile, earning him stunned looks for a brief moment.

"Excellent," Superman replied eagerly. "You have the entire League's resources behind you. Anything you need, it's yours."

A snort came from Hawkgirl. "Pretty sure Batman here has more resources than us at this point. It's not like we're supplying him battle armor either. He's going to be wearing a tux with maybe a wire."

The Kryptonian had the good sense to look sheepish at the Thanagarian's point. "Oh, right."

"Should it only be him, though?" Wonder Woman spoke then. "Wouldn't it be more beneficial to have more than one person attending this social gathering?"

"Wayne does need a date," Batman murmured more to himself. Unfortunately, that should have stayed as internal dialogue considering the number of people with super hearing in the room.

Superman immediately jumped at the comment. "We can help you with that. Surely Diana or Hawkgirl can go with you."

This earned the Man of Steel a look from not only Batman, but Hawkgirl as well. She obviously had a problem being offered up as an accomplice. "Not going to happen," he responded.

Upon seeing the confused look on the Kryptonian's face, the vigilante resisted the urge to sigh, though not before he reconsidered agreeing to this assignment of theirs. "Bruce Wayne is high-profile enough as is and the goal of any undercover mission is to not draw attention to yourself. If he brought either one of these women, it'll make it next to impossible to find out what Dorsey knows."

Flash gave him an odd look. "Has anyone ever told you talking about yourself in the third person is weird?"

Batman ignored the comment. "I'd have to stay with either one of them throughout the night since Hawkgirl can't blend into a room and Wonder Woman doesn't know the first thing about undercover work."

The screeching of chair legs over the floor filled the room as the Amazon shot out of her seat, pushing the piece of furniture back. "Are you saying I'm incapable of this?" she fumed.

The dark-clad man was aware of Flash suddenly making jerking motions with his arms and hands, trying to alert the vigilante to the potential danger he was walking into.

"Yes, I am."

It didn't work.

Wonder Woman's eyes flashed with anger. "I will have you know, Amazons are up to any challenge set before them. Talking to some man is not a difficult endeavor."

"It is when you have no reason for being there," Batman retorted. "Tell me, what reason does Wonder Woman have to attend this gala? And why would someone considered a paragon of women empowerment be on the arm of a notorious womanizer?" The Amazon hesitated at his questions, something he quickly jumped on. " _That's_ why you're not qualified for this."

Before the exchange could go downhill further, Superman jumped back in. "We understand, neither of the girls can go with you. Is there someone else you can ask to this thing?"

Batman turned his attention to the Kryptonian, ignoring the heated glare Wonder Woman directed at him. The idiocy of the question belied just how much Superman was unfamiliar with his alter ego. Before he could point out that, yes, a billionaire could arrange a date with just about any woman on the planet, a specific person jumped to mind, one that he was sure would drive his point home.

A smirk worked its way onto his face. "Actually, I do have someone in mind."

* * *

To Guest: Can't say that I do intend on continuing that series. As far as I'm concerned, it's finished.


	3. Undercover At The Dorsey Gala

"This had better be worth my while," Lois grumbled.

Bruce smirked even as he waved to some random photographer in the sea of flashing lights, one of Lois' arms looped around his as he led her to the entrance. "You wouldn't be here if you thought it wasn't."

She snorted. "You say that like I had a choice. 'Oh, hey Lois, just flew into town, I'm taking you to the Dorsey gala. Does 7 sound good to you? Great, I'll pick you up.' Click." the dark-haired woman responded sarcastically.

"As I recall, that's how my last invitation went and you didn't turn it down either."

This time he received a low growl, but nothing else. She couldn't outwardly scowl at him lest she send the paparazzi into a feeding frenzy and that was something both of them would've preferred to avoid. Instead the couple made their way down the red carpet, smiling for the cameras in Bruce's case while Lois put on what she deemed as an agreeable look. Clearly she wasn't in the mood to be here, but she wasn't about to turn down a chance at finding out what the Gotham billionaire was up to and why he had chosen her out of all the single women in the city to take out. Well, depending on who's opinion you asked, Lois was either single and waiting, or already taken.

For Bruce, this was the only person he considered spending a few hours with in a city that he hardly frequented. That and he just knew hitting on the woman Superman was reportedly most interested in was a surefire way to irritate the Kryptonian. If he was going to do this goodwill assignment, then he was going to make the man as uncomfortable as possible.

As they swept through the open doors, Bruce leaned closer to the dark-haired woman's ear. "Don't worry, I'll make this worth your time."

"Oh, you're damn right you are. What is this even about?"

"Short answer: I need to investigate the gala's host for information pertaining to a case."

Out of the corner of his eye, the dark-haired man could see Lois turn her head and deliver a withering glare. "You have got to be joking. No, you're not, since you had your sense of humor removed at birth." She shook her head as she looked away. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this—again."

"Well, according to you I didn't give you a chance to talk you into it."

"Just...shut up, alright? I need to prepare myself for two hours of boredom and semi-enjoyable dancing."

Bruce eyed her dress, a sleek black number that hugged her body in all the right places. "You sure you can dance in that?"

Immediately, Lois punched his shoulder, which only served to deepen the billionaire's smirk. "About as sure that you can only get it up when you're beating some gang-banger into a coma."

He didn't bother to reply to that, mainly because he felt he had needled the woman enough for the time being; also, they were just outside another set of double doors that opened up into the main ballroom. Strolling through, they found themselves standing at the outskirts of a crowd of lavishly dressed men and women, all of whom were too busy chatting with each other to notice their arrival.

"So, where to first?" Lois asked after a moment.

"I'm in no hurry," Bruce replied before he led his date into the throngs of the elite. Every once and awhile he would nod and wave to someone who returned the gesture, but nothing more. Considering he was in a completely different environment—so to speak—he didn't know as many people as he would have had this party been held in Gotham. Lois seemed to pick up on this immediately and plastered on a friendly smile—her definition of friendly that is. As fate would have it, they ended up by the buffet table where they dropped their interlocking arms and began loading small paper plates with various finger foods.

It seemed this was as far as Lois could last without sating her curiosity though. "Okay, I give, tell me why you're here. What business do you have with these people?" She then added, "I know you hardly mingle with the Metropolis types."

If only her Daily Planet partner was as knowledgeable as her. The corner of Bruce's mouth twitched up as he carefully worded his response in his head. "If you must know, I need to speak with Frederick Dorsey."

"What'd he do? Stir up trouble in Gotham?"

The dark-haired man tilted his head to his date, taking a bite of his hors d'oeuvre and swallowing it down before he answered, "Not that I was able to find out. It seems he's doing all his business in Metropolis; you can just imagine who it was that asked me to look into him."

Lois was quiet for a moment before her eyes widened. "You're kid—no, you have to be joking. No way is—"

Bruce shot her a stern look, causing her to fall silent. The last thing either of them needed was for someone to shout out Superman's name. Fortunately Lois caught on and adjusted accordingly. "You're telling me this city's favorite son asked you to look into him?" The sharp look in her eyes told the dark-haired man that the reporter was sensing a story.

"Him and his network of friends," the billionaire answered. "I can't go into specifics here, but you can imagine that if they're looking into Dorsey, it's not anything that could be legal."

"I'll say." A pause. "So, should I be expecting some sort of interview for this?"

"Let's just say an unnamed source will be filling you in on the details once this plays out."

Normally Lois would not have taken that for an answer, but she knew she'd be getting her dues at least when it concerned him. Though it had been quite some time since their last interaction, Bruce could definitely say that he took care of those that cooperated with him. Lois knew this.

Suddenly, "I see Dorsey," Lois spoke, nodding her head in the direction she was looking. Following her gesture, Bruce spotted his target, a sandy-blonde man who was currently shaking hands with another guest and laughing obnoxiously loud at some joke.

"So do I," Bruce said; however, he made no move to approach the man, content on watching him.

Apparently Lois was baffled as to why. "Aren't we going to go talk to him?"

"Not yet. Dorsey's old money; waltzing over to him will make him suspicious if he has half a brain."

"So what? We're just going to watch him?" The dark-haired woman blew air through her lips in annoyance. "That's not at all suspicious."

"Which is why we have to watch him without him thinking we're watching." At this, Bruce raised a hand up. "Care to dance?"

Lois raised an eyebrow. "How is that going to disguise our poor attempt at spying?"

"We don't have to be watching at the same time since we're both going to be keeping an eye on him."

There was a pause. "Alright, lead the way."

Feeling her soft hand on his, Bruce then tossed his plate of half-eaten food onto the buffet table, Lois taking the time to set hers down. The couple then wormed their way through the crowd until they reached the dance floor, several other couples already waltzing to the cellos, violins, and bass. Facing each other, Bruce held Lois' hand with his own, placing his other on her waist. He felt his partner place her free hand on his shoulder, the two of them looking at each other for a few moments before they began their steps.

It wasn't long before their gazes darted between themselves and Dorsey, one of them always with their sight on the target as they moved across the dance floor. Dorsey had mingled with the other guests, but for the most part stayed in the same area, never venturing deeper into the crowd. It made keeping an eye on him that much simpler.

"So you're sure Dorsey is the guy?" Lois eventually asked after awhile. They were on their second song now, this one going at a slower tempo.

"That's what I've been informed," Bruce answered as they turned, giving him the better angle to view the blonde-haired man.

"Well, if you don't mind my saying, so far I haven't seen anything. He's just talking and laughing."

Bruce hummed his agreement at his partner's complaint, but otherwise kept watching.

"We're going to have to confront him if we want to get anything out of him. This passiveness isn't getting us anywhere."

"You may be right."

As it turned out, two men approached Dorsey then. If Bruce wasn't mistaken, he knew the men. One was a middle-aged man named Jack Schroeder. Owned some real estate along the coast just outside Metropolis, if not a part of Metropolis' harbor. The other was an older man, the grey visible in his hair and mustache, who went by the name of David Townsend. He too was apart of the shipping industry.

Interesting.

The two men talked to Dorsey, whose jovial appearance lessen. He then said something to a guest he had been entertaining and walked off with Schroeder and Townsend, heading towards a door ignored by most of the guests.

"Something's up," Lois stated more than questioned, eyeing Bruce's watchful stare. "What are you going to do?"

"Follow them. If you'll excuse me." Making sure to lead them to the edge of the dance floor before stopping, Bruce took his hands off the dark-haired woman before he left her there, heading for the doorway Dorsey had used.

* * *

It was insufferable, inexcusable, insulting. How dare that _man_ insinuate that she was less than capable of a task as he?

Diana sat in a room that was designated as the commissory. It was a place for quieter times for her and her comrades to relax and unwind, replenish their strength with food and drink, or to simply spend time with each other. At the present moment, the Amazon was in no mood for any of these options.

As much as it galled her, ever since she left Themiscyra, her abilities as a peacekeeper and warrior were constantly questioned. Rarely had she heard such remarks aimed at the male members whereas she and, undoubtedly, Hawkgirl had to constantly prove themselves through battle. It was a sexist double standard she fought against every day.

And then there was Batman.

If there was ever someone enjoying the benefits of a legend they created for themselves long ago, it was him. What had he done since his return to Gotham? As far as she could determine, very little had been accomplished. In contrast, she and the rest of the Justice League had saved the world countless times, not to mention their own personal works within the cities they protected. They had earned the respect given to them and not rested on their laurels.

Which further infuriated her when he attacked her competence. Who was he to suggest she wouldn't know how to extract information from a suspect? She had been gifted the Lasso of Truth by the Gods! There was no one would could resist the Lasso and not once had it failed her.

Though she was open-minded to the idea of seeking outside assistance on this case, the moment Batman arrogantly dismissed them, Diana had known they had made an error in selecting him as their agent. Why would anyone deny the use of the assistance of seasoned heroes was beyond her. It wasn't as if he hadn't enlisted them before; in fact, he knew how effective they could be.

So consumed by her thoughts, the Amazon was oblivious to the arrival of Superman. It wasn't until he loudly cleared his throat that she was forced out of her ruminations and looked up at him.

"You're bothered by something," Superman simply said as he looked at her.

Diana offered him a rueful smile in return. "Am I that easy to read?"

"Just now. I suppose our...interview didn't exactly endear you to Batman."

The dark-haired woman sighed. "No, it did not. His demeanor was uncalled for and his dismissal of us was just as infuriating."

"You're not the only one that feels that way," the Kryptonian replied. "The others are grumbling too."

Before she knew it, words began tumbling out of Diana's mouth. "We've worked with him before; I thought that was enough for him to know that we aren't liabilities, that we would work better as a team. We didn't have to request his services, yet he treats this as if he's doing us a favor."

"I can't say that I wasn't shocked by his behavior either," Superman agreed. "But then, we haven't worked with him all that much either. Just that time at Nanda Parbat and even then I could tell he was on edge around us. The only one who has any extensive experience was Zatanna and last I heard she was on tour with a magic show."

"After she declined our invitation and picked Gotham instead." Diana felt herself scowl. The magician's choice in using her powers to awe audiences every night must have been influenced by Batman, she just knew it. He had to have run her off, blocking her out much like he was doing to the League.

It was as if he thought he were above them all regardless of his rightful station.

That could not be tolerated.

Eyes narrowing, Diana knew she had to prove the vigilante wrong. Show him that the Justice League was capable of more than he thought. Sharpening her attention on Superman, she asked him, "Superman, would you accompany me on a mission?"

* * *

The hallway was dark, the only illumination provided from up ahead. Silently Bruce stepped towards the opening, already able to make out what appeared to be a room. Behind the dark-haired man was a wooden door, one he had just slipped through to get here. Careful to avoid a doorknob to what had to be a door to a closet, he slowed to a stop at the end of the hall, peeking around the corner.

There he found Dorsey, Schroeder, and Townsend standing amongst furniture, not even making use of the couches. The serious looks on each of their faces told the billionaire a meeting was going down.

Oddly enough, there was no sound. There was even a fire going in a nearby fireplace, yet the crackling of burning wood was absent. Something was amiss, that he was certain. Darting his eyes across the room, he soon spotted small, square boxes hanging in the corners of the room. They were silver in color with a large black circle in the bottom half of their faces. There was something vaguely familiar about those and he made a mental note to determine just what they were. A security camera for sure, but he strongly felt there was another use for them.

Changing his focus onto the three men, Bruce began to scrutinize their lips. Dorsey was fortunately facing his direction, even though his head kept turning to look at his comrades. Schroeder and Townsend had their profiles to him, which made looking at their lips that much harder. Townsend was angled in a more favorable direction, but Schroeder would be next to impossible.

" _The next shipment is coming in tomorrow night,"_ Dorsey "said."

" _Do you know how much?"_ Townsend asked. Bruce was quick to note the anxious look on the man's face.

" _Same as usual. So far they've gone undetected this way."_

Both Dorsey and Townsend looked to Schroeder, indicating he was talking. There was a pause before Townsend said, " _I heard the same thing, that one of the Justice League members crashed into one of your warehouses. We both deserve to know what's going on there."_

Dorsey shrugged, appearing to not be bothered by the development. " _They want to talk to me, but I can handle them."_

There was a tense moment before Schroeder became very animated, to the point he turned more into Bruce direction and he caught, " _...kidding. How much do…"_

" _They have to have found one of the shipments,"_ Townsend added. " _Why else would they want to question you?"_

" _This is just a slight hiccup, that is all. We just have to avoid using that harbor for storage now, not that it was all that important. There were only seventeen containers there and the Justice League only found six of them. We can adapt to this. We'll just have to send this one to David's place on the other side of the bay."_

The other two men shook their heads. Schroeder said something, Townsend again adding his own two cents. " _The League could be here tonight, you know. I hear the Martian can read minds and stuff. Then there's Superman who can hear every bloody thing in the world."_

A smirk appeared on Dorsey's face before he nodded his head towards one of the devices in the corner. " _Do I need to remind you, gentlemen, that there's not a thing either of those aliens can do? A sound buffer is in place along with a thought barrier for added measure."_

Bruce narrowed his eyes. So that's why he couldn't hear anything, even though he was literal feet away from them. It was most likely a person had to be within three or four feet just to hear someone. He had to base that hypothesis on how close the three men stood to each other.

However, while the sound silencer was something he was beginning to expect, the mental barrier Dorsey mentioned was more alarming. As far as the dark-haired man knew, no such thing existed on Earth. Combined that with the weapons and he knew without a doubt someone was providing them with the tech. Now he just needed to figure out who.

" _Now, if you two would stop acting like women, we can get to more serious business. The boss man is coming."_

The other two men's heads perked up at that. " _He is? When?"_ Townsend demanded.

" _End of the week, no later than next week. Everything is ready for—"_

Suddenly, all three men glanced to a corner of the room, right where a door was. The door then opened and a man in a suit strode into the room. If Bruce wasn't mistaken, that was Dorsey's butler. " _Pardon the interruption, Sir, but something has come up that requires your attention."_

What was said next was lost to Bruce, but he didn't fail to notice how Schroeder and Townsend's bodies flinched. Something was going on elsewhere and none of the men seemed happy about it. It seemed it was time to leave.

Slowly, Bruce retraced his steps backwards to the exit. He barely made a sound even as he reached the door, carefully turning the knob and pulling it open. He was just about to cross through the doorway when he realized that even if he had been playing a trumpet in a marching band, Dorsey and his friends wouldn't have heard him. So without further delay, he closed the door normally, hearing wood knock against the frame. Turning away from the door, Bruce then headed back the way he came. He and Lois needed to make a quick exit.

* * *

There was a low chatter filling the ballroom when Bruce returned to it. The music was gone, indicating the small orchestra was taking a break, or at least that's what he would have assumed had he not noticed the men and women whispering to each other excitedly, their instruments held loosely in their hands. Frowning, the dark-haired man began searching the room for what would have made the musicians so animated.

Aside from a growing crowd towards the front of the room, he saw nothing else. Hearing hinges squealing, causing him to turn around, Bruce saw Dorsey and his entourage emerged through the doorway. In that moment, all five of them—including the butler—froze as they looked at each other with surprise.

Then Dorsey recovered and took a step to him, hand held up, and a wide smile on his face. "Bruce Wayne, as I live and breath," he greeted the billionaire, who returned the gesture with his own, taking the blonde-haired man's hand and shaking it. "What brings you to Metropolis, Buddy?"

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. "What can I say, I was in town and heard there was a party going on. It proved too tempting to pass up."

A smirk appeared on Dorsey's face, even as Schroeder and Townsend walked around them, heading somewhere else in the room. "Then you've come to the right place. There's plenty more to come, I assure you."

"I hope so. Lucius might be calling me soon, so hopefully I get to see everything you've got planned before that old wet blanket demands I turn in."

Dorsey threw his head back and laughed. "You still keep that guy around? Talk about a buzzkill. Well, don't go anywhere just yet. There's a couple people I absolutely need to meet and I promise to introduce you to them." Beginning to move around the billionaire, the blonde-haired man kept his gaze on him before adding, "Don't go too far, Bruce!"

"Count on it," Bruce called after the man as he watched Dorsey head towards the front of the room. Dropping his smile, he then began searching for Lois again, strolling through the mass of guests.

As it turned out, he found her by the buffet table, though she was clearly displeased about something. There was a nearly-empty glass of champagne in her hand, the other holding a toothpick with an olive on its end in front of her mouth as she glared daggers towards...the front of the room? As Bruce moved next to her, the dark-haired woman didn't even bother turning her head to greet him as she grumbled, "I hope _you_ had a good time."

"It went reasonably well," he told her, which finally earned him Lois' full attention. "I think it's time for us to leave."

"Oh, we can't possibly do that," Lois responded, her voice dripping with venom. That made the billionaire pause. "After all, the Guests of Honor just showed up."

 _Guests of Honor?_ Upon seeing Bruce frown, Lois then gestured with her champagne glass towards the even larger crowd towards the front of the hall. Turning his head to look, it seemed as if someone up on high wanted to give him the view he needed. Guests began to disperse allowing him a clear sight of the very people that caused Lois' sour disposition.

He honestly didn't blame her the instant he saw them.

Mingling through the crowd was Wonder Woman, a dark dress hugging her body before flowing around her legs. At her arm was Superman in full uniform, doing his best to not look uncomfortable, yet failing spectacularly. There were people being tortured right now that looked more comfortable than he did. The two heroes were practically swarmed by the other guests as they fired question after question at them. Dorsey was making a beeline right for them, a rich kid ready to show the world his new trophies.

 _What the_ hell _are they doing here?_ Bruce seethed. _  
_

Realization hit the dark-haired man then like a baseball bat to the face even as he outwardly scowled. The sudden interruption of Dorsey's butler and the abrupt ending of the meeting had to be cause by their entrance. It was the only thing that made sense. Those two idiots had stormed the gala as if they owned the damn thing and sent Dorsey's butler scurrying to inform him.

"They make a nice couple, don't they?" Lois spat out bitterly. "Wished I had known they were more than 'just friends.'"

This was not the time or place for jealousy and Bruce could see this escalating really quickly. "Let's leave," he growled lowly, his voice slipping into his Batman tone.

That shook Lois out of her seething as she looked at him with wide eyes, recovering a moment later. "Alright, lead the way."

Taking her arm much like they had been when they arrived, Bruce led them towards the exit. Unfortunately, the closer they got to the doors, the closer they drew near to the two superheroes.

"Bruce!" Dorsey exclaimed as he excitedly waved them closer. Feeling Lois stiffen next to him, he couldn't help the grimace that appeared on his face briefly before he covered it up with a smile. "Thirty seconds and we're out," he told his date, lips hardly moving as they altered their path.

"I'm holding you to that," the dark-haired woman replied, the same smile as his on her face, her words slipping through her teeth.

The moment they reached them, Dorsey was making the introductions. "Bruce, Buddy, let me introduce you to the World's Greatest Heroes: Superman and Wonder Woman!"

"Pleasure," Bruce replied as he held a hand up. Automatically, Superman reached out to return the shake. "And I'm sure Superman recognizes my date."

"Oh, I'm sure he has," Lois said quickly loudly, in a tone that made the Man of Steel visibly wince. She blatantly ignored Wonder Woman as every ounce of her fury was directed at the Man of Steel. "It seems he's found someone else to save these days."

Though the words had been aimed for the Kryptonian, Wonder Woman took offense to that. "I do not need saving."

"I'm sure you don't," Lois replied, "but then, not every one of us grew up on a girls-only island. I guess I'm going to have to find another hero to snatch me out of the air when I fall off of buildings now." Looking to Bruce, she added, "Do you think Batman might be available?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce could see Dorsey was exuberant; he clearly saw the drama seeping from their interaction and was about to burst from the suspense. Deciding to end this before Lois delved into her more acerbic quips, he took charge of the conversation. "While I would love to chat, my business partner just called me. He threatened unholy hell on me if I didn't respond."

"Oh, come now, Bruce," Dorsey protested, his voice whining. "Surely you can stay around for a few more minutes."

"Duty calls, Fred."

"Well, at least let the lady stay. I'm sure she would love to catch up with Superman."

Bruce felt Lois' arm tighten around his and that was the only sign he got that told him the reporter was on the verge of telling Dorsey what she thought of that idea and where exactly he could stick it. Heading it off, the dark-haired man replied, "I promised to take her home at a reasonable time and I always keep my word."

Then, without another word, Bruce began leading Lois away, only to hear Wonder Woman call out to him. "If it's not too much trouble, perhaps we can join you?"

Bruce didn't bother to stop as he looked over his shoulder at the Amazon. "Oh, don't leave on our account. Stay, enjoy the party. Spend some time with your admirers. I'm sure we'll meet up some other time. We'll do lunch! Ciao!"

Without another word, the dark-haired couple left the ballroom, exiting the building shortly after that. They waited in silence for the valet to bring the billionaire's car, climbing in once it arrived. It wasn't until they were on the road that Lois verbally ripped apart the quiet.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded, not waiting for Bruce to respond. "Seriously, why the fuck were they even there? Were they on the guest list and you didn't tell me? And since when were they a couple? All this time and he's been shaking up with the Amazon chick?"

It didn't take a genius to know there were serious waves heading for a certain Kryptonian and Bruce wasn't at all feeling sorry for him. He didn't bother saying anything either, allowing his date to continue her rant unabated. She would lose steam by the time they reached her apartment complex and she could start making voodoo dolls of her reported love interest.

As it turned out, the reporter didn't monopolize the entire trip on that subject. "Please tell me you got something to make this night worthwhile," she demanded, her anger slowly draining out of her.

"I did," Bruce responded. "Dorsey, Schroeder, and Townsend are storing weapons for someone."

"Awesome. Anything else?"

"No who or why, but it shouldn't take long to find out."

A sigh came from the dark-haired woman as she fell silent. Then, "Not really getting a story out of this, Bruce. You have to give me more than that."

"You will," he reassured her.

"On the record."

"If you wish."

Again another silence. While Bruce was sure he had managed to pacify the woman, something told him she was mulling over something else. "Okay, I have to ask," Lois finally spoke up, adding, "off the record."

The billionaire raised an eyebrow as tilted his head towards the dark-haired woman. "Off the record?"

"Yeah." A pause. "You were gone for three years, when everyone thought you were dead. I have to know: why did you leave?"

Bruce stared out the windshield, contemplating whether to answer or not. He knew she wouldn't talk, but it wasn't something he was proud about. "That wasn't by choice," he finally settled on saying.

Lois refused to take that answer. "What happened?"

Again he mentally weighed telling and not tell, ultimately deciding there was no harm. "I died fighting the Joker only to be resurrected by a madman who wanted to use me to commit global genocide."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Lois staring bewilderingly at him. It was awhile before she spoke, "Normally I wouldn't believe such a story, but considering this is you, I think I'll have to."

"Thanks," he deadpanned.

"You're going to have to tell me the whole story one day, though."

Bruce snorted. "I wouldn't count on it."

* * *

The opening scene is something I've planned for a long time. I've often joked with my co-author that the sole reason for including Lois Lane in The Ninth Circle was just for this moment, with Batman hinting in the previous chapter who he intended on taking, and Lois serving as the punchline in the following chapter. Sort of a long time to pull off a gag like that though...

To Guest: Was it everything you thought it would be?


	4. What The Hell Were You Thinking?

"What the Hell did you think you were doing?!"

Those were the first words out of Batman's mouth the moment Superman and Wonder Woman appeared in their little clubhouse. The entire League was there, milling around as they asked each other why they had been called. Not a single one of them had expected him to be waiting in the corner if their looks of surprise were any indication. The rage in his voice was palpable, so no one could have misunderstood why he was here.

It wasn't all that hard to find their headquarters either. During his previous stay he had placed a tracker in their little meeting room and none of them had found it before he had left, or detected it since. He made sure to get the location the moment he returned to Gotham in case someone had stumbled upon the bug, finding the signal coming from Happy Harbor, Rhode Island. Returning was a relatively simple task, not to mention bypassing security and entering the building.

Of course, he had to assemble the entire team since he only wanted to say this once. How he accomplished that was best left unknown; you never knew when you needed to alert the world's most powerful superheroes at a moment's notice.

As Superman and Wonder Woman stood on the teleportation pad, the Dark Knight strode from his dark corner, looking every last inch like the wraith he had designed the costume to be. Never once did his eyes drop from the two heroes, his glare boring holes into them.

At the very least, the two had the good sense to look embarrassed if their bowed heads were any indication. That left one of the other heroes to speak in their stead. "How did you get in here?" Green Lantern demanded, his ring sparking with green energy as he held his hand up, ready to strike.

Batman didn't bother to look at the man as he answered, "That is unimportant considering—"

"Unimportant?!" Lantern's voice rose. "This is a secure facility. No one without access should be in here—and you're the only one that isn't supposed to be here."

If the green-glowing man thought nothing was impenetrable, then he was sorely mistaken. Batman didn't bother to respond to that though. "What you _should_ be concerned about is that two of your teammates botched an undercover operation."

"Botched?" Flash questioned incredulously. "How? Where?"

The vigilante finally looked away from his two targets as he regarded the red-clad man. "Tonight, Superman and Wonder Woman made an appearance at the Dorsey gala. They're still wearing their evening wear in case you were wondering."

"We did not ruin your investigation," Wonder Woman protested then, stepping off the teleportation pad as she approached him. "You were leaving when we arrived."

Batman returned his glare to the Amazon. "I was leaving because there was no way I could glean any more information. You saw to that."

"What did you learn?" the Martian Manhunter spoke then. "We can address your concerns in a moment."

That did nothing to soothe the dark-clad man's ire, but he could respect the Martian's priority. He'd play along for the moment. Not bothering to look to the green-skinned alien, the Dark Knight reported, "Dorsey and a number of Metropolis' wealthy have been receiving shipments of those weapons you intercepted, the most prominent of them all being Jack Schroeder and David Townsend. If what they said is true, they've been doing this for awhile."

"Wow, Supes, they did this all under your nose too," Flash remarked. "That's gotta hurt."

To Superman's credit, he ignored the jab as he walked towards Batman, coming to a stop just behind Wonder Woman. "Did you find out how they're able to cancel out my hearing?"

Batman nodded. "Sound buffering tech and powerful ones too. Dorsey had to install them throughout his buildings. You had to be within three or four feet just to hear them."

"Hold on," Lantern spoke up then. "If you had to be that close, how were you able to overhear them? I doubt you were invited over just to hear them talk shop."

This time the vigilante turned his blank stare to Green Lantern. "I can read lips."

There was a silent moment before Flash leaned towards Hawkgirl and slowly whispered, "Creeeepy."

The Thanagarian ignored the remark. "Did you learn anything else?"

"Only that they're working for someone; none of them are in charge. It's likely these men are simply providing storage for whomever owns those weapons, along with the sound buffers and telepathy inhibitors."

"Telepathy inhibitors?!" Lantern exclaimed. "Those are definitely alien tech, no doubt about it." He then glanced to the Martian as he added, "They really wanted to keep this under wraps if they blocked Superman's hearing _and_ J'onn's telepathy."

"Something big's coming," Hawkgirl said. "So who's the big boss? Any ideas?"

This was when Batman's scowl returned as he looked to the Kryptonian and Amazon. "They were just discussing him when _these two_ arrived at the gala. Dorsey's butler interrupted the meeting to inform him and they all left. I don't have to tell you the rest since you have your own eyewitnesses."

"You can't be serious," Hawkgirl demanded before she turned a glare to the two heroes in question. They were looking even more sheepish now, not that it did anything to cool the Thanagarian's temper. "Did you two actually go to the—no, I won't finish that since it's obvious you did."

"Now that you have my report, they can answer my question," Batman said. "And you better hope your reason is a good one."

While Superman had the look of a reprimanded schoolboy, Wonder Woman held her head high in defiance, the proud Amazonian Princess to the end. "We only wished to support you during your mission," she answered.

Her righteous speech, her haughty tone, and her defensive body language revealed a lot more than the Amazon's words did. She may have believed that she was doing as she said, but there was an ulterior motive and he wasn't blind to what it was. Batman clinched his hands into tight fists as he felt his anger explode inside of him. "You're still angry that I refused your assistance earlier, aren't you?" he demanded heatedly. "So you showed up to what? Prove me wrong? How goddamn juvenile!"

"That is not how it was!" Wonder Woman shot back just as defiant.

Batman resisted the urge to continue arguing. They would only go in circles, especially with someone who believed their intentions were good. He had better things to do than that. "I don't care how you see it, the end result ended with Dorsey's arms dealer remaining unknown. That's on you." He then turned his head to Superman and continued, "And _you_ should know better."

He didn't bother to explain why an investigative journalist would need to know the importance of keeping an undercover job just that; it was second nature and he could tell the Kryptonain got the message as his eyes widened. Finished, Batman blatantly ignored the heroes and marched to the teleportation pad. Standing on one of the circles, he then looked to the Martian Manhunter and addressed him. "You can send me back anytime."

"Very well," the Martian acknowledged. "How would you like to stay in contact in regards to the case? I'm sure we can arrange—"

"That won't be necessary," the dark-clad man interrupted. "The next time you want to discuss a pending investigation with me—don't. Find someone else that will tolerate your meddling."

There was a tense silence before the green-skinned alien nodded his understanding. "I apologize for the actions of my teammates. Where in Gotham would you wish to go?"

"None. You can send me to my hotel room in Metropolis."

Superman's head perked up at that. "What are you going to do there?"

"Secret identity, Superman," he snapped. "Bruce Wayne was already spending the night there and it would raise too many questions if he suddenly popped up in Gotham after being in another city for a few hours and left without his private jet."

"Oh, right."

A moment later, Batman heard a soft hum before his vision was blinded with white light. He was ready for this though, as the lens in his mask blocked out the light, allowing him to see his hotel room appear right before his eyes. The lights were out, so the room was bathed in darkness. Letting out a sigh, he grabbed his mask and pulled it off, cool air assaulting his skin and shellacked hair.

What a night.

* * *

"So, mind telling me why you decided to crash Dorsey's party?" Hawkgirl asked, coyly, leaning up against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest.

Diana had removed that eye-catching dress of hers and was back in her less than modest uniform. She didn't seem to be in the mood to discuss why Batman had stormed out of their headquarters like a pissed off brat, but that would not deter the Thanagarian. They were professionals and there had been a lapse in that area lately.

Unlike earlier though, the Amazon seemed ready to vent. "Do you not find it strange that a man with no powers at all would refuse our assistance when asked?" she began, working herself up into a fervor. With a stride that belied her Amazonian pride, she left her room, the redhead following her at a sedate pace. "Then purposefully insults us as to why he does not want our help?"

"We did recruit him," Hawkgirl pointed out. "We had already determined that none of us could do what he could. So why let some rude behavior get you out of sorts? I doubt this is the first time you've come across people like this."

Of course, Shayera had a pretty damn good idea why. Batman had flat out told the Amazon that she was incapable of doing his job and that had pissed her off. That Diana would purposefully put herself out in that environment to prove him wrong was surprising, but considering how well she knew the other woman she should have expected some sort of repercussion. Now though, she had to make the princess here see the error of her ways because she was getting on her high horse right now—and that horse was an extremely tall one at times.

And Diana was still ranting. "No man should look down on a woman. We are fully capable of doing whatever men can do."

"Of course," Shayera agreed. "I didn't know you were trained in the art of deception and disguise back on your island. Would have made it very handy last night if everyone had known that beforehand. We could have not even bothered with contacting Batman in the first place."

The Amazon wasn't able to ignore the jab. "There is no reason for subterfuge on Themyscira. No sister would dream of lying to another; and even if they did, the Lasso of Truth would reveal such lies."

"Yet, we were commissioning someone to use subterfuge, who specialized in it. Then you got in his way. In fact, we'd have a name of who owned all of those weapons if you had arrived a minute later."

Diana stopped walking and turned, leveling her with an accusing eye. "You're siding with him, aren't you?"

"I'm just calling it like I see it, Princess," the Thanagarian returned evenly as she caught up with the dark-haired woman. "And what I see is that you got mad that someone viewed you as less than capable, you wanted to prove them wrong, and ended up sticking your nose in something you should have stayed out of. What was the point of consulting this guy if we weren't going to let him do his work?"

Shayera could see the Amazon was mulling that point over in her head. Deciding to strike while the iron was still hot, so to speak, she continued, "Batman managed to figure out all of our weaknesses, remember? All while we had no clue he was out there. He knows what he's doing."

"You make an interesting point," Diana acquiesced. "But his delivery does leave something to be desired."

"You're talking about a guy who's idea of talking involves breaking people's arms and legs," the redhead said dryly. "Manners he lacks in spades. That's not even including the fact that he spends all of his time in a cave with a supercomputer that _still_ makes all the stuff we have here look antiquated. Flash is still trying to build his own so he can play video games on the big screen."

The Amazon sighed. "It seems I have made a grievous error."

"No more than usual. Besides, all you did was burn a bridge with a guy we barely work with. I doubt it'll bite us back in the future."

"So where does that leave us?"

"As far as I can tell, we need to look into Dorsey's accomplices, Schroeder and Townsend. Considering we crashed one of Dorsey's warehouses, it's more than likely the other two will have to pull their weight while he's being scrutinized."

The corner of Diana's mouth twitched upward. "Then I suppose we should rejoin the others and determine our course of action."

* * *

Bruce thought he had washed himself of the matter entirely once he had given his findings to the Justice League. That was figuratively even though he was currently showering, turning his metaphor into a literal one.

His suit was packed away into a large, silver briefcase, a locking mechanism that would take a bolt cutter hours to cut through keeping it shut. For additional security, there were a few nasty surprises to dissuade more persistent persons. And for extra measure, the case was in the closet, out of sight for housekeeping to accidentally trip over it, or attempt to move it out of their way. While the maids weren't supposed to come into his room this late, or ever, the dark-haired man's paranoia demanded he not give the opportunity for anyone to try.

Shutting off the water, Bruce stepped out of the shower stall, grabbing the closest hotel towel and began to dry himself off. Though he wanted nothing to do with the case anymore, his mind was on a constant loop, replaying the conversation between Dorsey and his compatriots. Of all the people in the world, why would they want to store weapons? They didn't have ties to arms dealers—a background check prior to the gala had proven that at least for Dorsey. Perhaps further investigation into Schroeder and Townsend was needed. Regardless, these were alleged upstanding men who stood to lose quite a bit if this were to come out. To blatantly discuss such matters rooms away from a large party was ballsy, if not stupid.

Finishing drying his arms, Bruce moved down to his legs. It was possible arrogance came to play—Lord knew all three of those men had that in spades. The last time Bruce had spent any sort of time with Dorsey, the man wouldn't shut up about how great Metropolis was compared to Gotham. It had taken Bruce falling into a drunken stupor, not at all faked either, to get rid of him and his condescension.

Or maybe it was the jab at the man's smaller portfolio. He had been too drunk to recall what exactly had worked.

However, there was also the issue of the other technology they had access to. Sealing not just one building, but multiple ones from super hearing and telepathy was quite an undertaking and having it done without anyone noticing took serious planning. He wasn't surprised by the sound buffers and he imagined that's all the business tycoons did in this city since they had a flying boy scout that could hear them breath from the other side of town. In Gotham they were constantly sweeping for bugs because that was a very real, very logical action for those committing data theft. Implementing plans against a known strength of the Martian Manhunter, however, was something else entirely.

If that tech was already in use, not to mention the storage of these plasma rifles, there was no telling what else was being kept in those warehouses. In fact, he was betting that there was more to this than was discussed at that meeting.

Bruce paused for a moment. This wasn't his case, not anymore. This was a concern for the Justice League, not him. He didn't deal with laser guns and telepathy blockers and saving the world. He had given those heroes what he had found out; that was the end of the case for him.

Yet, he couldn't help but recall Superman and Wonder Woman's intrusion. How they barreled in headfirst without a thought. In fact, that was how they handled most challenges if his prior observations were worth anything. It was how his countermeasures had worked, provoking each and every one of them to act without thinking and springing his traps.

Could the League bring these men to justice? Eventually, he felt. Would it take them long to do so?

He found the answer "probably" to be unacceptable.

So what then? Should he find out what Dorsey and his friends were up to? Collect evidence against them and hand it over to the League, or the Metropolis PD? Bruce snorted before he wrapped the towel around his waist. As if Metropolis would take evidence from a vigilante. The Justice League might though.

He still had that lead on Townsend too, something he had forgotten to mention due to his anger over the unwanted intrusion. A smirk appeared on his face. There was going to be more repercussions from that incident yet to come, Superman in particular if his connection with Lois was as close as was reported. She would definitely torment the Kryptonian for awhile yet.

Walking out of the bathroom, Bruce made his way to the bed, taking a seat on it and incidentally found himself facing the closet with his "Batsuit" in it. Townsend was going to be receiving the next shipment and it wouldn't be all that difficult to track down which one of his properties it would be arriving.

Surely the Justice League could figure that out. After all, they did have some members that performed investigations. Superman was an investigative reporter by day, Hawkgirl was a self-proclaimed detective on her home planet, the Lantern was for all intents and purposes a space cop, and the Martian Manhunter used the identity of a P.I. at one point. They were fully capable of handling their own investigations.

Yet, it wouldn't hurt if he took a look and sentr them an anonymous tip either.

This wasn't going to leave his mind, not until he was sure progress was going to be made. A growl reverberated in this throat, much to his annoyance. Standing up, he marched over to the closet and forced the door open. Seeing the bulky silver case, he let out a sigh before he dropped to one knee and unlocked it.

* * *

A cool breeze blew by as Dick exited the building. Right behind him was Tim, trailing behind with a slump in his shoulders. He didn't really blame the kid either, he felt the same way.

Walking away from St. Mary's Rehabilitation Clinic, the two headed for a parked motorcycle. They had been visiting Barbara, who had been residing here for the last several months. The redhead had been through a lot lately, her initial injury notwithstanding.

It was tough, not just on her, but everyone around. What did you say to a friend that was now paralyzed for life? That you saw the very weapon that caused it cutting into her, severing her spin cleanly? It hadn't mattered how fast Dick had gotten her to Gotham Mercy, the damage had been done and there was no way to reverse it.

Even worse was the fact that after so many run-ins and arguments, the very man that warned them that this could happen had also supplied them with the equipment that could have prevented the injury to begin with. There was some sort of irony, or some other vocab word that described this to a T.

Reaching the motorcycle, Dick threw a leg over it, straddling the vehicle. Tim did the same behind him, adjusting his backside in this seat before shoving a helmet on his head. "Barbara seemed in better spirits," the younger man remarked after a moment.

"Yeah, she did, didn't she?" Dick agreed as he put on his own helmet. A moment later, he revved the motorcycle to life and eased his way through the parking lot, exiting onto the street a moment later before taking off. "When this is all said and done, she's gonna have better arms than me."

"Not a hard thing to do, Dick, when you have a set of girly arms," Tim shot back.

A smirk appeared on the older man's face. That had been a good dig at his expense, so he let it go—he had to drive after all. He'd give the younger man a noogie when they got to the shipping yard later.

That just so happened to be the place where they were storing their new gear. While it probably would've been safer to try and find a place of their own to store it, they lacked the access, not to mention the money, to do so. So, since their surprise benefactor was footing the bill, why let it go to waste? It wasn't like he took anything away if it stayed—in fact, it would be replenished every so often.

The rest of the ride was done in silence, Dick driving them through Gotham to the shipping yard and right up to the shipping container. Coming to a stop, Tim jumped off the bike and jogged to the doors, punching in the combination to unlock it and then pulled the doors open. Driving the rest of the way to the doors, the moment Dick entered the container, he killed the engine, dropping the kickstand down to park his bike.

Pulling off his helmet, he gazed at all the batarangs and grapples, and other weapons. Everything was as it was when they left it last night, so that was good. No one unwanted had found their stash. Ultimately, the dark-haired man's eyes found their way to the back where three costumes hung on mannequins.

On the left was his Nightwing suit, looking a heck of a lot better in armor instead of the spandex he used to wear. On the right was Tim's Robin suit with the same upgrade.

And right in the middle was Barbara's unused Batgirl suit. Every time Dick looked at it, he was torn between crying and screaming in anger. It just wasn't right that after all the work they had put in, all the danger they had braved, Barbara wasn't going to enjoy the spoils. It frustrated him to no end.

"You do this every time," Tim suddenly spoke, his voice low. "It sucks, I know, but you can't help how things went down."

"If Batman hadn't waited to give us this stuff in the beginning, then Barbara would still be standing," Dick retorted angrily.

"He did what he thought was the right thing at the time. And you know, he was right, we were in over our heads. Would you want to equip a bunch of dumb kids with the stuff they need that could still get them killed?"

This was an old argument that they had been through ever since they had found out about Barbara's injury. Dick had never expected Tim to side with the Bat on this, but he had. Barbara really didn't participate in these arguments either, mostly because Dick thought it depressed her too much to think long about it. The dark-haired men had pretty much stopped mentioning it to her since.

"Now quit your moping, we've got patrol," Tim said as he walked up to his suit.

"Since when did you start giving out the orders?" Dick replied snarkily.

"Since I became the only grown-up."

The corner of Dick's mouth twitched up. "Looks like someone's sounding like Barb."

Tim returned the grin. "Someone has to."

* * *

Red dots blinked over the hologram image of a map. Each dot was found along the coast, right next to the Metropolis harbor.

"These are all the locations of known warehouses belonging to Dorsey, Schroeder, and Townsend," J'onn intoned. "Setting aside the one Green Lantern found, these are the most likely places that would house more plasma rifles and potentially the security technology Batman uncovered at the Dorsey Gala."

"That's a lot of dots," Flash commented as he stared at the screen.

"Quite," the Martian agreed. "However, they all must be searched in order to uncover other leads about this weapons ring. There's no telling what else is being smuggled by these men and it's very unlikely they are only holding the technology that we know about."

"Agreed," John chimed in. "It'd be best if we paired off too, for backup. No one should stumble into a situation they're unprepared for."

"We can also divide the number of warehouses we have to look," Superman added. "One pair takes Dorsey's, another on Schroeder, and so on."

"Proposed teams?" J'onn asked.

"There's three of us with investigative backgrounds," Hawkgirl pointed out. "John, J'onn, and I. It'd make sense that we each lead our respective pair."

"Good point," Superman agreed.

"Flash and I will investigate the Dorsey warehouses," John volunteered.

"I'm game," the red-clad hero responded.

"Diana and I will do Townsend then," Hawkgirl said, earning her a small smile from the Amazon.

"Which leaves J'onn and I with Schroeder," Superman summed up. He then addressed the computer projecting the hologram. "Color code each location based on the ownership of the property. In response, many of the dots changed from red to either green or blue.

"That doesn't look so bad," Flash commented, leaning as far back into his chair as he could so that he could rest his feet on the table. "For a moment there I thought we were going to take all night with this."

"What, you actually have something else to do other than lounge in your boxers watching monster movie marathons?" Hawkgirl jabbed.

"You should give it a shot, Wings," Flash drawled. "There is no better feeling than not doing anything at all."

"Flash's hobby aside," John spoke up, "the sooner we get started, the sooner we find proof on Dorsey. They've probably been moving their stockpiles around the moment we found the first one, so time is of the essence. We need to be in and out fast before they even know we're there."

"To prevent word from spreading of what we're up to, right?" Flash suggested.

"That's right."

"Well then." Flash swung his chair to a side, the soles of his feet clashing against the floor loudly. "Good luck to the rest of ya; me and GL are going to bust some heads."

"Good luck," J'onn returned. "And be safe."


	5. Frenzay

I appreciate all the reviews I received for the previous chapter. Thanks a lot of guys. Unfortunately, FFN is acting funky for some reason or another. I've received the email notifications of the reviews, but they're not appearing on the review page, which prevents me from responding. So I'm placing all of my review replies to y'all at the bottom of the chapter. Again, thanks for reading and reviewing!

* * *

Crouching on the edge of the roof, Batman tossed a line of rope towards the ground far below. Making sure the other end was secure, where it was tied around a ventilator, the vigilante began to lower himself down the rope until he hovered in front of a window. Pulling out a glass cutter from his belt, he pressed the suction cup against the glass and began moving the sharp rod around in a circle.

It had been minutes earlier when a caravan of trucks came pulling in, entering the building through a large metal door and disappearing within. There were four trucks in total, their cargo unknown, though Batman suspected this was another arms shipment.

Hearing the sharp screeching made from the glass cutter, it soon completed a full circle, one that the dark-clad man removed as he pulled the tool back, the section of glass coming with it. Dropping the piece of glass to the ground, where it shattered, he placed the glass cutter back in his belt and then stuck his arm through the hole. Unlocking it, he then opened the window and hauled himself through the window sill.

The Dark Knight found himself in what was best described as an office room, albeit one that probably hadn't been used in some time. There were a few chairs shoved up against a wall and a desk covered in grime, random papers littering the floor. Ignoring it, Batman made his way to the door, grabbing the handle and pulling on it.

Unsurprisingly, the door didn't budge. Considering the disuse of the room, it was likely it was locked on the outside, which meant he'd have to force it open. That stood the chance of causing too much commotion though.

Which meant he had to settle for an old standby. Locating a ventilation grate, the vigilante moved towards it and pried it open soon after stopping in front of it. Entering the vent, he crawled through it, following the small tunnel until he reached a point it dropped straight down.

Staring at the situation, he then reached for his grapple and pointed it at the ceiling. Firing it, the claw anchored into the top of the ventilation tunnel just above the drop. Hitting a button, he began pulling out the cable until he was sure he had enough of a line. Tossing the grapple gun into the shoot, he watched as it fell until it stopped just short of hitting the bottom.

Now came the foolish part. Because there wasn't much room to maneuver within the shaft, he had to make the descent down head first. It was truly stupid and if he had a choice, he wouldn't have considered it. Sure he could crawl backwards until he reached a point he could move around and get his feet in front of him, but he wasn't about to waste time doing it. Taking a deep breath, he plunged forward, hands gripping the cable tightly to brace himself. The moment his legs entered the shaft, he wrapped them around line, his cape falling over his head and dangling above...below his head.

 _Great plan, maybe you can arrange breaking your neck at the end of this,_ Batman groused before he began loosening his grip. Slowly he slid down the cable, approaching the bottom at a crawling pace. There was no telling how long he was at this until he reached the end of the line, seeing the ventilation tunnel making a sharp turn forward.

Sighing, the dark-clad man let go of the cable and shot both of his hands out, bracing himself into a handstand in the shaft. Legs spreading out to press against the walls, he put his flexibility to the test as he began worming his way into the new tunnel, arching his back until he was fully inside.

Stopping for a moment, Batman took the time to rest as his body let him know it didn't appreciate the stunt he had done. Ignoring it, he then kicked a foot back, hitting the hanging grapple gun on the release button. A _clunk!_ echoed throughout the tunnel as the device hit the floor, followed by the claw landing and making a louder crash. Gritting his teeth, he used his feet and legs to retrieve the grapple until he held it in his hand, taking the time to retract the line and placing it back in his belt.

Continuing his trek, he eventually found another grate, one he was grateful to find. Grabbing the bars, he put as much strength as he could into his arm until the bolts gave and it popped off. Sliding it to aside, Batman emerged from the vent, finding himself in the main warehouse room. Ducking behind a stack of crates, he began creeping behind them, careful to keep cover between him and whoever else was here. There was a walkway above his head, forming a sort of roof that created more shadows, allowing him to hide easier.

Spotting the trucks, he made his way towards them until he had a good spot, peeking around several boxes. Men were unloading the backside the trucks, using handcarts to move large wooden crates down ramps. None of them were talking as they placed their cargo in a predesignated place.

However, Townsend was there, watching as his men worked. He was fidgeting for some reason, as if he were being observed rather doing the observing. He made frequent glances to one area in particular, though Batman wasn't able to see who or what it was. That made the vigilante frown. That wasn't the body language of someone in control.

He soon found out why Townsend was so nervous. From one of the trucks a tall, purple-skin man emerged. At least Batman assumed it was a man considering his body held all the hallmarks of a masculine body. Muscular, a distinct lack of mammary glands beneath his loose clothes, and the hard features of his face indicated as much.

Aside from the purple skin, however, what was best described as a fin jutted out from atop his head. It looked like the wing of a bat, loose skin connecting finger-like extensions. Considering the advance tech he had discovered and been informed of, Batman was under no delusion that this was not an alien, which coincidentally explained why the elite of Metropolis got their hands on said technology.

"We're ahead of schedule, Frenzay, Sir," Townsend stuttered out as the alien stood in front of him, looking down on the rich man from his implausibly tall height. "We should be finished here soon."

"I know," the purple alien replied succinctly, his voice deep and devoid of emotion.

There was an uncomfortable silence before Townsend asked, "So, I hear the boss...uh, man in charge is coming. Must be almost time, right?"

"Yes, the time is nigh," Frenzay responded.

"And we'll be congratulated, right? Rewarded...maybe?"

So Townsend and Dorsey were getting paid for this. Made sense why they were risking their entire livelihoods, Batman mused. What the exact payoff was didn't matter so much as it was enough to get both wealthy men into this sordid business.

"You will receive what is owed to—" The alien stopped talking, his face twisting into a frown. Curiously, Batman watched until Frenzay turned his head and stared right in his direction. "There's someone else here."

The vigilante jerked back further behind his cover. What was going on here? The sudden stop of his speech coupled with looking at his exact location had alarms going off in his head. Did this Frenzay mean him? Or was there someone else? There was too much coincidence to think it could be anyone other than him and he had to act as such.

"There's a man hiding behind those boxes. A spy most likely. Eliminate him."

Well, that removed any doubt.

There was a loud crash, followed by the snapping of wood. Slowly, Batman peeked around his cover and saw a few of the workers had opened one of the crates, three of them pulling out what he had to assume were the plasma rifles the League was investigating.

"Are you sure they should be firing those?" Townsend questioned uneasily. "I mean, someone might see the—"

"It's perfectly fine," the alien interrupted, sounding completely calm. "Consider this a field test."

As if that were all the permission the men needed, they aimed their weapons right at his location. Eyes widening, Batman darted back the way he came, a second before he heard a sharp screech echo through the room. He barely caught sight of yellow light from the corner of his eye before an explosion rang out right behind him.

 _Goddamn it!_ he cursed as he pumped his legs as hard as he could, the plasma rifles being discharged over and over if the those screeching sounds were any indication. Heat licked at his back as he ran, telling him the shots were getting closer. He needed to do something fast.

Reaching to his belt, Batman retrieved a few smoke pellets and his grapple gun. Up ahead there was a break in his cover, two sets of crates forming a short path between them. The moment he reached that break, he tossed the smoke pellets through the gap and towards the shooters, a cloud of smoke exploding out between him and them, and causing the men to shout out in surprise.

Thankfully, that stopped their shooting for the moment. Pointing his grapple towards the roof, he fired it and pulled himself up into the air, swinging until he landed on the catwalk above. Quickly, he kept moving until he reached a point where he could see the men's backs. Leaping onto the railing, he pulled out three of his bat-shaped shuriken. First he'd disarm the shooters and then move into incapacitate them. However, before he could start his plan, he discovered he had a problem.

The purple-skinned alien was looking right at him.

"He's up there," Frenzay calmly stated, causing the armed men to jerk around and aim their weapons right at him.

Immediately, Batman sent his shuriken flying, intending on disarming the men. In response, the each fired a yellow blast of energy, incinerating the projectiles in mid-air as the beams raced towards him. Eyes widening, Batman dove off the railing, narrowly dodging the blasts.

Unfortunately, he wasn't able to avoid the explosion caused by the lasers the moment they hit the ceiling. The force of the blast slammed into his back, causing him to cry out as he was sent tumbling through the air. The next thing he knew, he landed hard on a crate, causing the wooden to shatter and break. Air forced from his lungs, he was left gasping as he tried to recover his breath.

"Holy crap," Townsend exclaimed then. "That's the Bat!"

Oh, so his reputation preceded him, even in a dump like this. That was good to know.

"The Bat?" Frenzay inquired coolly. "I am unaware of such an individual. What is it?"

...never mind.

"He's just some costumed wacko from Gotham," Townsend explained, his voice raising higher with panic. "He shouldn't even be in Metropolis."

"Is that so? Then let's make sure that he does not regret the decision to interfere for too long."

Batman did not like the sound of that. Unfortunately he wasn't in the most ideal position to dodge what was inevitably coming. That left with him with extremely few options, mostly pertaining to the contents in his belt. Smoke pellets were out since the gunmen had a clear shot at him and no amount of smoke was going to change that. There were the flashbangs, but even then they could squeeze a shot off and he'd be dead. It was too close of a distance for the concussion detonator, but the fact it could knock them all off their feet was proving to be—

"He's plotting," Frenzay suddenly spoke. "Finish him before he enacts his plan."

The vigilante felt his eyes wide once more, something he found he was doing with an alarming regularity these last few minutes. It was impossible for this alien to be predicting his every move like he had. It...it was almost as if he were reading his mind. That had to be what was going on. Damn it, if only he had realized that sooner.

 _Goddamn it._

Even from where he laid, Batman could see the barrels of the plasma rifles glowing with an ominous light. Each one caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up, his arms pressing down on the splintered wood, if only to give him to false glimmer of hope he could move fast enough to avoid what was going to happen.

However, before any shots were fired, a wall suddenly burst into pieces, sending debris flying through the air. The gunmen cried out and took cover, the same with Townsend as he screamed. Frenzay was the only one unfazed by this sudden turn of events, staring at the airborne pieces of concrete, not bothering to move out of the falling debris as it clattered on the ground.

For Batman, his sights settled right on the new hole in the wall as dust and smoke dissipated, making out the form of perhaps the last person he wanted to see, but he was willing to make exceptions. Standing with her hands on her hips was Wonder Woman, her steely blue eyes soaking in the scene before her.

"There's another one!" someone cried out before the gunmen aimed their plasma rifles at the Amazon. The guns fired an instant later, the beams racing towards their target. Batman watch with fascination as Wonder Woman simply raised her arms up, crossing them in front of her just in time for the light beams to collide with her silver bracers. Her body flinched from the force of the blasts, but she held strong against them, crouching slightly to better brace herself.

Suddenly, Hawkgirl darted from somewhere behind the Amazon, wings spread wide as she flew right by her comrade's left side. She then shot up towards the ceiling, arching as if she were a bird of prey swooping in on vermin. Her appearance caused one of the shooters to stop his blast at Wonder Woman and switch targets, rapidly squeezing the trigger as he fired multiple beams. The Thanagarian nimbly dodged the attacks, rising and falling through the air, each blast exploding on the ceiling.

Gritting his teeth, Batman rolled out of the wreckage of the crate he laid on, forcing himself back onto his feet. With the entrance of the two Leaguers, everyone had forgotten about him—a situation he much preferred. Pulling out a shuriken, he sent it flying with a flick of his wrist, not bother to watch it as he moved to take cover beside one of the trucks. The last thing he needed was for someone to remember he was still here and take a shot at him.

In the meantime, his shuriken did its job and collided with the side of one of the gunmen's head, knocking him out as he dropped to the floor. That ended one of the beams attacking Wonder Woman, who took advantage of the moment. Ducking to a side, she allowed the other blast to fly by her harmlessly, launching herself like a missile to her remaining opponent.

Startled, the man fired another beam, only to have the Amazon swing one arm up, the movement allowing her to deflect the attack into the floor. Alarm showing on his face caused the gunman to hesitate, which proved to be fatal for him. With a fist drawn back, Woman Woman swung it forward, ramming it into his face, and sent him flying through the air until he crashed into the side of one of the trucks, dropping to the floor in a heap.

Which left one last gunman. Having heard his comrade hit the truck, he mistakenly turned his attention to his friend's fallen form. This allowed Hawkgirl to end her aerodynamic display and drop through the air, her mace draw back as she let out a war cry. The man jolted out of his astonishment and turned his sights to the charging Thanagarian, only to realize how screwed he was the moment she swung her weapon.

Much to Batman's surprise, Hawkgirl slammed her mace on top of the plasma rifle, crushing the barrel like it was an empty beer can. Electricity began to dance all over the ruined weapon, causing the gunman to drop it as if it had burned him. Feet touching down on the floor, Hawkgirl leapt at her disarmed foe and leveled him with a powerful haymaker, dropping him to the ground a moment later.

 _Not bad,_ the Dark Knight thought as he observed the fight. That was all the time he ended up having to think as the engine of the van next to him roared to life. The vehicle jolted in place, seeming to bounce before speeding backwards towards the exit. Instantly, the vigilante reached to a pouch on his belt and pulled out a small, bat-shaped transmitter. Before the truck was completely out of his reach, he tossed the device at the truck, seeing it stick to the underside of the bumper due to the magnet built into it. Hopefully the driver didn't try to ram something with the bumper lest he destroy the transmitter.

As if that were a cue, two more trucks roared to life, alerting the women to their activity. Charging, each took one of the vehicles. In Hawkgirl's case, she let out another war cry and slammed her mace on top of the truck's hood, killing the engine immediately. In the meantime, Wonder Woman chose to grab onto the front of her truck, her hands pressed on the outer side of the headlights.

The tires of the truck began to squeal then as the driver pressed the accelerator down hard, trying to pull away from the Amazon. Strain appeared on the dark-haired woman's face before she decided to change tactics. Instead of holding the vehicle in place, she began to lift it, heaving the truck right off the floor. Leaning backwards, she held it perpendicular to the ground, standing as straight as a rail despite the weight pushing against her.

Then she swung it down, slamming the truck hard on the floor. A loud _CRASH!_ echoed throughout the room, Batman flinching from the sound as he saw the tires bent at ninety degree angles. Yeah, that truck wasn't leaving here any time soon.

Suddenly, movement out of the corner of the vigilante's eye caught his attention. Turning his head to follow it, he realized someone was trying to escape on foot; that wasn't going to happen. Once more he drop a hand to his belt to retrieve a weapon, this time pulling out a bola. Rotating his wrist over and over, he swung the metal balls in a circle, waiting for his target to come out into the open.

The moment he did, Batman sent the bola flying through the air, watching as it closed in on its target. Once it made contact, the ropes wrapped around the man's body, the metal balls ramming into his torso and legs once they ran out of slack. A surprise cry came from the man before he dropped onto the floor, a struggling, squirming sack of meat.

"Well, well, it's a surprise seeing you here," Hawkgirl suddenly said, drawing the dark-clad man's attention to her. She still had her hand clutching the shaft of her mace, but she stood casually, one hand resting on her hip. Wonder Woman was nearby, arms at her side as she coolly regarded him. "I thought you'd be back in your little cave by now. What's keeping you in Metropolis?"

"Something came up," he grunted to her as he turned away, beginning to advance on his captured prey.

"Something like an arms deal, right?" He could hear the knowing tone in her voice, though he imagined a smirk was growing on the redhead's face. "I'm pretty sure something like this falls into our area of expertise." He then heard two sets of footsteps following him.

Ignoring the jab, Batman soon stood over the squirming form of David Townsend. Now this was a bit of a surprise. Seemed he had been too slow in getting into one of the escaping vans. Too bad for him.

Kneeling down next to him, the Dark Knight let his cold stare do its work as the man slowly stopped struggling, staring up with fright at him. "You...you shouldn't be here," he stuttered out.

"I could say the same about you," Batman replied, reaching out to the scared man and grabbing him by his shirt collar. Pulling him up, the vigilante leaned his head into Townsend's personal space, increasing his discomfort exponentially. "Who is Frenzay? How long have you known him?"

Townsend shook his head frantically. "No, never. I won't say nothing!"

"That's where you're wrong," Hawkgirl spoke up, coming to a stop next to Batman. She rested a hand on his shoulder then as she continued, "I'm sure you know who this is, what he does to criminals."

"In Gotham!" Townsend spat out. "This is Metropolis! He can't touch me—"

Townsend found Batman's fist slamming into his mouth then, cutting him off. A pain cry came from his lips as blood filled his mouth. "I suggest you change your answer," the Dark Knight said. "Otherwise you'll have to use dentures to eat food again."

"Oh God, help me," the man whimpered.

Deepening his scowl, Batman pulled his fist back again, only to have a hand grab his wrist. Tilting his head to a side, he saw a stern-looking Wonder Woman glowering at him. "You will not hit this man again."

"I can and will, Princess," the Dark Knight responded, a hint of repressed ire in his voice. "Unless he tells me what I want to know, I'll do it all night if I have to."

"No, you will not. This is under the jurisdiction of the Justice League and I will not let you assault him."

"You heard her, Batman," Hawkgirl agreed, her hand squeezing onto his shoulder to reinforce her words. "We're taking over here."

"Is that right," he stated. Staring at the quivering David Townsend, he then abruptly let go of the man, dropping him back onto the floor. Standing up, he shook off the women's hands, stepping over Townsend as he put space between them. "He's all yours then."

There was a silence from the women, one Batman chose to ignore. Perhaps they expected more resistance from him. Regardless, he wasn't in the mood to debate who had rights on Townsend, not when he had other leads he could use. Reaching a hand to his belt, he pulled his palm pilot out of its pouch, activating it a second later.

"What are you doing here?" he heard Wonder Woman ask then, obviously to Townsend. When all the man do was snivel and whine, the vigilante realized the question may not have been directed to him. Turning his head to a side, he saw the Amazon staring right at him. Ah, so he was the target of her inquiry.

"Tying up loose ends," he answered.

"I thought you were done with this case," Hawkgirl said. "You made it quite clear you wanted nothing else to do with the League."

"I don't, but I don't like leaving half-solved cases alone." Returning his attention to the palm pilot, the Dark Knight was pleased to see a map of Metropolis on the screen, a red dot moving down one of its multitude of streets.

"Admirable," Wonder Woman remarked. "But it seems you were in over your head. The Gods were favorable to your plight that we arrived when we did."

Hmph, Gods. It was more like luck truthfully. The League was checking out all of the warehouse properties of Dorsey, Townsend, and Schroeder, that much was obvious. It just so happened these two were checking out this particular warehouse when the fireworks started. He refused to consider what would have happened without their timely intervention.

"In fact, I'd say you ruined our little stakeout here," Hawkgirl added then, causing the dark-clad man to pause in his viewing. "If you hadn't riled up the entire place, we could have made sure none of them escaped. Now we have a truck roaming Metropolis with someone that actually knows what's going on here." The Thanagarian dropped her eyes to Townsend and continued, "This one doesn't seem to know very much."

"Yeah, yeah! I don't know anything! They don't tell me much!" Townsend wholeheartedly agreed.

Batman merely glanced down at the man before looking back at the winged woman. "You're assuming I didn't want to let that truck go in the first place."

The redhead's eyes narrowed at his words, her dark-haired comrade looking at him curiously as well. "You meant to let them go?" Wonder Woman asked.

"Not purposefully, but it did present an opportune moment." Batman then held up his palm pilot so the women could look at it. "I placed a tracer on it just before it left. It'll head right back to a safehouse, or hideout."

"I have to say, I'm impressed," Hawkgirl admitted. "So what do we do with this piece of trash?" she then asked, prodding Townsend with the toe of her boot.

"He still has information we need." Batman then looked to Wonder Woman. "If you won't let me interrogate him, use your Lasso to make him talk. I rather not go in blind this time."

"No, you can't do that! No!" Townsend screamed.

"Very well," Wonder Woman replied as she reached to her golden rope, removing it from its place at her hip. Despite Townsend's protestations, she looped the lasso around him and pulled it tightly. "Tell us what you know about these weapons," she commanded him.

For a moment, it looked like the man was resisting the magical rope, but he caved in seconds later. "I'm just keeping them here, that's all," he said. "That's all I'm being paid to do."

"Who's paying you?" Batman demanded. "Frenzay?"

"Yes, he's the one paying me and Schroeder and Dorsey. Dorsey put us all in contact with him and he just wanted to stash the guns in our warehouse."

The Dark Knight knelled down next to the man. "Who is Frenzay? He isn't some local."

Disappointingly, Townsend shook his head. "I don't know. I didn't ask for his resume or anything. Dorsey vouched for him, so I did what he asked. For all I know, he could've popped out of some hole in Siberia or something."

"A wealth of information, this guy," Hawkgirl commented, her arms crossed over her chest with her mace dangling at her side by its strap from one hand.

"But it does implicate Dorsey," Wonder Woman responded. "He appears to have more answers it would seem."

Batman was back on his feet, walking a few steps away as he glanced at the palm pilot again. The dot was still moving unfortunately. Considering what Townsend said, it seemed Dorsey was more involved with this than he had believed. Dorsey either kept things from Townsend, or Townsend refused to learn more so that he had plausible deniability. Regardless, he was a dead end now.

"Seems to me we need to follow Batman's truck," Hawkgirl said, voicing the vigilante's growing thoughts. "We should contact Superman and the others about this."

"Agreed," Wonder Woman replied. "If you will take Townsend to the police, we'll regroup at this hideout this Frenzay is heading to."

"Fine by me." The Thanagarian knelled down then, picking up Townsend with ease. "See you two soon." With that said, she then took off into the air, leaving Batman alone with the Amazon.

"Tell me, how do you intend on going after these men?" she asked him.

That was an interesting question. Unfortunately, he didn't have a vehicle within range at the moment, so giving chase over rooftops was looking to be his only, if unfavorable, option. Instead of telling the Amazon this, he opted to remain silent.

It seem doing that was just as telling if he had openly admitted his lack of transportation, if the growing smirk on the dark-haired woman's face was any indication. "Perhaps we can use this to make amends," she suggested then. "I can fly us to Frenzay's location if you wish. Consider it an apology for earlier tonight."

Batman looked the Amazon in the eye, seeing the sincerity of her offer. Honestly, he wanted nothing to do with her, but between tiring himself over unfamiliar rooftops and having her fly him, he didn't have much of a choice.

"The van is heading southwest from here. We can use the buildings as cover to keep out of their sights," he said.

Wonder Woman's smile only grew wider.

* * *

To kapilyadav97: Thanks!

To Guest: Pretty intense, huh? Left ya a little speechless lol

To Delta808th: Great minds think alike, plus she's got a woman's touch to get into our Amazon's head. Really helps things out.

To lauriewsmith: Let me guess, it's because of the antagonistic relationship between Batman and the Justice League that gives this some pop. Don't blame ya, that was the more fun part to write with this story so far. Thanks for reviewing!

To AnonymousVoid: That shall remain a mystery...for now...


	6. The Direct Approach

It was one thing to soar over the streets of a city with nothing to catch you should you not have a grapple line in hand. A miscalculation in the angle of the swing, the height of the building you were using as a landing point, the length of the cable, or even a weak grip on the grapple itself could cause a very unfortunate situation to happen.

When none of those were factors you had to worry about, you might have a problem. In this case, Batman found his feet dangling below, a tone arm wrapped around his shoulders while he had an arm squeezing tightly on the reason why he was up so high. It was unnerving how Wonder Woman seemed so calm flying them through the air. The vigilante hoped he looked as if he were taking this all in stride, but his head was chaotic at the moment, filled with all sorts of images of how this could all end badly. None of them ended with the two of them reaching their destination in one piece despite that being the best-case scenario.

Having already made the mistake of looking down at his palm pilot to see how much further they needed to go—and subsequently got an eyeful of just how far down the city streets were—Batman raised the device up in front of his face. The dot indicating his tracer had finally stopped at a building on the west side of Metropolis. Unfamiliar with the city as he was, he wasn't sure where they were going exactly, a feeling he wasn't used to having.

"How much further?" the Amazon asked him then, pulling him out of his head.

"Sixteen blocks, I believe," he answered her.

"Good. I've been informed that Superman and J'onn will be meeting us there."

Two heavy-hitters, not a bad idea. Hopefully they didn't decide to charge in once they were all there; he needed to brief them on what he knew of Frenzay. A repeat of the warehouse would not be happening here.

It didn't take long for them to reach the building. After confirming it with his palm pilot, Batman turned the device off and placed it into its pouch. With his newly freed hand, he pointed at the building and said, "The next building is the one we're going to. Land on the one next to it."

In response, Wonder Woman began their descent, landing at the desired location. The moment his feet touched down on the roof, the vigilante stepped away from the Amazon, letting his cape envelop his form. Immediately he made his way to the edge of the roof and began scanning the other building for anything out of the ordinary. A moment later Wonder Woman joined him.

"I'm not seeing anything out of the ordinary," she eventually said, breaking the silence between them.

Batman grunted in response. He wasn't seeing anything either, no traps or security cameras, nothing that made this place stick out. However, just because they couldn't see anything didn't mean there wasn't anything there. Considering who was on their way, they would be getting more detailed information soon.

"Before Superman and J'onn arrive, we must discuss something" the dark-haired woman suddenly spoke. Raising an eyebrow, the Dark Knight tiled his head to a side, indicating he was listening.

"What you did to David Townsend, it will not be allowed," Wonder Woman continued. "That is not an action condoned by the Justice League and if you attempt to do so again, we will act accordingly."

"I can abide by that while we work together," Batman replied, acknowledging her statement. "But if you're going to police me in Gotham, then that's where I draw the line."

"It's wrong," she insisted. "That sort of behavior only gives into more violence. If we are to break that cycle, we have to rise above it. Words are more effective than a fist could ever be."

The dark-clad man glanced at the golden rope at the Amazon's hip. "Not everyone has your magical lasso, Princess," he retorted before returning his attention to the building in front of them. "I can't make people talk that don't want to. Crime is heavily entrenched in Gotham with its own code of conduct and honor. If I only demanded to know what the gangsters knew, they'd laugh at me. If I have to dirty my hands to get intel that may save a life, then so be it."

Wonder Woman was silent for a moment before the corner of her mouth ticked upward. "I seem to recall a similar conversation some time ago." Upon seeing him look back at her, she continued, "You were not there for it, but there was a debate regarding your interrogation tactics. It ended in a stalemate. However, a point you just made was mentioned."

Batman grunted again and turned away from her again. Heroes were actually discussing what he did in Gotham? That was a nuisance he wanted no part of. The last thing he needed was someone lecturing him on taking the higher ground.

Thankfully, if this conversation was going to go any further, it didn't have the chance as two people landed on the roof. He didn't bother turning around to greet them as Wonder Woman did. "Superman, J'onn," she acknowledged them.

The two aliens approached them, coming to stand on the opposite side of Wonder Woman. "This is where your lost truck went?" Superman asked.

Batman nodded. "This is where the transmitter is transmitting from. Neither one of us has been able to locate any outside traps. Do a scan with your x-ray vision to see if there's something we're missing."

To the Kryptonian's credit, he didn't grouse at the order, instead focusing his eyes on the building in front of them. "I'm not seeing any traps either, outside or in," he reported. "There's also no security cameras either. It's like they only just started using this building, or its used for storage."

"Do you see anyone in there?"

"Yeah, a handful of men and—" Superman frowned, "—this tall, purple guy."

"That would be Frenzay," Batman reported, earning him the attention of the other three. "Townsend reported to him, claimed that it was Dorsey that was their contact. Frenzay appears to have some telepathic powers." At this he turned his attention to the Martian. "He seemed to know exactly where I was and what I was thinking when we met earlier."

The Martian Manhunter didn't respond, his eyes beginning to glow orange instead. He stood silently, a Martian statue, before his eyes dimmed to their normal color. "I do sense someone with telepathic capabilities inside."

"Does he know we're out here?"

"No, he does not. I was able to locate him without alerting him to our presence. He appeared to be distracted."

"This is the time to strike," Wonder Woman announced. Without another word, she launched into the air, flying over to the other building, Superman and the Martian Manhunter close after her even before Batman could say anything to stop them.

It went against everything he stood for for a direct attack; however, perhaps this was the way to go. If those three wanted to barge him and apprehend Frenzay, then let them. It would achieve their objective all the same. Still, he wasn't one for facing plasma rifles head on.

He was going to take a roundabout approach to this.

* * *

Diana didn't waste time, diving towards the roof headfirst. Timing herself as she drew closer, she drew a hand back and swung it forward, her fist slamming into the roof and causing it to break and crumble. Rubble fell inward into the building as she descended into the hole she had created.

Superman was the next one in, choosing to go feet first unlike the dark-haired woman. Passing through dust and smoke, he emerged into a large warehouse-like room, discovering a truck with large pieces of debris on top of it, crushing it like an aluminum can. There were a handful of men dressed as dock workers, each one scrambling around to various crates.

Narrowing his eyes, the Kryptonian knew what they were up to. When he had scanned the warehouse at Batman's request, he had seen the weaponry and just how much was here. It seemed this was also another storage place for them. As he floated closer to the floor, the dark-haired man drew closer to a couple of men frantically ripping off the lid of one of the crates.

Feeling heat around his eyes as they began to glow red, Superman fired his heat vision at the box, the beams of red light shocking the men as they jumped back. The weapons within the crate slowly began to melt from the intense heat, the box itself bursting into flames a moment later. Turning his body around in midair, the Kryptonian landed between the men and the burning crate, arms crossed over his broad chest as he faced them.

"Crap, it's Superman!" one of them cried before they both reached to their sides, pulling out handguns. Immediately they began firing at him, the bullets ricocheting off him harmlessly. Superman honestly had no idea why people tried shooting him with conventional weapons anymore, since it was widely known they were useless against him. It was an act of futility that had worn itself out a long time ago.

Sucking in air, Superman blew it out, sending gale-force winds to slam into the men. With cries of terror, they both went flying through the air, flipping uncontrollably until they crashed into the wall on the far side of the room, collapsing to the floor soon after.

A moment later and pain ripped into the dark-haired man's side, causing him to yell out as the force of the blow knocked him off his feet. It was his turn to slam into a wall, though he used his power of flight to keep him from dropping into a heap on the ground. Wincing, he looked in the direction he had flown and found one of Frenzay's men had gotten one of the plasma rifles out and had scored a direct hit on him. He was surprised that they packed that kind of punch, but he wouldn't be underestimating them after this.

Seeing the end of the weapon's barrel glow a bright yellow, Superman leapt into action. Using his super speed, he dashed to a side, circling around the man like a blur even as he fired his gun. The yellow beam moved in slow motion to him, the Kryptonian watching it with fascination. He was always interested to see things move while he was traveling at speeds the human eye couldn't even recognize. This must be how Flash saw things when he ran.

An instant later and he was floating behind the shooter, the world around Superman speeding back up. Mischievously, the dark-haired man reached up and tapped the gunman on the shoulder. Jumping, the man swung around, attempting to point his gun right at the Man of Steel. In response, he caught the side of the barrel with one hand, stopping the man in his tracks. With a small smile on his face, Superman began squeezing with his hand, a shrill sound sounding off as the metal barrel twisted and bent under the pressure. When he was finished, he let go of the weapon, allowing all to see that the barrel had been crimped shut.

The shooter stared at the ruined weapon for a moment, blinking his eyes bewilderingly before he turned his attention to the Kryptonian. With the same hand, Superman drew it back before he threw his punch. Making sure to control his strength, he packed enough power to send the man flying into a stack of crates, causing the stack to fall in on itself and on top of the certainly unconscious man.

That was another one down. Before Superman could turn his attention elsewhere, an energy beam whizzed by his ear, startling him. Jerking around, he saw Diana taking on two more gunmen, bouncing their rapid fire blasts with her bracers. It was a sight to behold as she weaved her arms gracefully in a set pattern. Even more impressive was that she was moving them faster and faster as she drew closer to her foes.

The Man of Steel was confident the dark-haired woman could handle herself, which was the only reason he didn't go charging in. It also had something to do with the Amazon's pride had he leapt in like a knight in shining armor. Her indignation would last for days.

Which left finding this Frenzay guy. Superman recalled exactly what the man looked like, so he went directly into the search, rather than slowly scanning the area. Seeing that the purple man wasn't in the immediately vicinity, he activated his x-ray vision to further his search.

"I believe you are looking for me."

Whipping around, Superman found Frenzay standing calmly behind him, his arms behind his back comfortably. Alarms were going off in the dark-haired man's head, namely how this man had gotten behind him without his knowing. With all of his heightened senses, it was nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him.

Impassively, Frenzay spoke, "Out of everyone here, you present the greatest obstacle. Such obstacles must be removed."

"Many people have tried," the Man of Steel responded, his posture straightening out as he readied himself for an attack. "But you're welcome to take a shot."

"Gladly."

Frenzay closed the distance between with a step, swinging a fist at his face. Superman allowed it to connect, mostly to show just how futile an effort it would be. Much to his surprise, pain erupted in his face as his head snapped backwards. The force of the blow threw him off his feet, sending him careening into the rubble that sat on top of the crushed truck.

Wincing, Superman once more began to float, preventing him from ingloriously dropping onto his backside. That had been unexpected; Frenzay had some strength behind his punch. Cradling the side of his face with one hand, he slid his jaw from side to side, making sure nothing was broken or dislocated. It was a very human gesture, one he normally didn't do, but sometimes he couldn't help himself.

Steeling his features, the Kryptonian rushed towards his foe, leading off with his shoulder as the distance between them disappeared. Before Frenzay could react, Superman rammed his shoulder into him, sending the alien flying backwards, and crashing through a stack of crates, sending shattered pieces of wood flying everywhere. Frenzay came to an abrupt halt when his back slammed into a wall, a spider's web of cracks erupting all around his body.

Dropping to the ground, the purple alien landed on his feet, upper body and head bowed over as he recovered from the blow. Then his body stilled. "Superman," he stated before he straightened out his body and looked right at the Kryptonian, looking no worse for wear. "Is something wrong?"

That made the Man of Steel frown. It wasn't often someone could take a hit from him and be this unaffected. It seemed he was going to have to put a little more effort into this fight. Channeling the solar energies within him, his eyes began to glow a brilliant red moments before he fired his heat vision.

A startled look appeared on Frenzay's face before he dove to a side, the red beams blasting into the wall where the alien once stood. Frenzay went into a roll on the ground ending up on his feet and then, surprisingly leapt up into the air, taking flight.

Pushing his astonishment a side, Superman used a burst of speed to close the distance between, appearing as a blue-and-red blur to the naked eye. Reaching out, the Kryptonain grabbed the alien around his ankle, stopping his flight. Twisting his body around, Superman then arced his arm downward, swinging Frenzay through the air. Let go of his grip, Superman watched the purple alien crash onto the floor on his back, knocking the air out of his lungs and leaving him dazed.

Taking advantage of this, Superman charged at his opponent. Drawing a fist back, he threw it at the last moment. Somehow, Frenzay recovered quickly enough to shoot both of his arms up, crossing them in front of him just in time for the Man of Steel's punch to collide with his forearms. The force of the blow caused the floor beneath them to erupt with cracks, chunks of cement jutting upwards, forming stalagmites. A tremor ripped through the warehouse, causing crates at the top of piles to fall off their perches and break apart upon landing on the ground.

Superman wasn't finished, however. Over and over, he began slamming punch after punch into Frenzay's crossed arms. Each attack pushed the alien harder and harder into the ground, a crater beginning to form around him. Frenzay's face twisted with strain, teeth gritted as he weathered each and every blow. "Stop," he begged, his voice emotionless as ever. "Stop this, Superman."

"Not until you give up," the Kryptonian demanded, continuing his onslaught. He could keep this up for as long as it took. Frenzay would surrender himself; he would be taken into custody where he would tell them what he was up to; and he would do so on the terms of the Justice League.

Unfortunately, he never heard the words he wanted. Out of the blue, two arms slipped between his arms and torso, preventing him from throwing another punch. With astonishing force, he was pulled away from Frenzay before he found himself being thrown through the air. Calling upon his flying power, he slowed his flight until he came to a stop in midair.

When he looked back to where he once was, Superman was in for a shock. As Frenzay stood up in the crater he had previously been laying in, next to him stood a second Frenzay, who stood with his profile towards the Kryptonian, his head turned towards him.

This was unexpected.

* * *

"Are you alright?" J'onn asked, looking towards the floating Superman stoically. Behind him he sensed Diana standing up onto her feet, looking quite worse for wear.

The Martian had been shocked when he saw Superman turn on the Amazon. Diana had weathered his punching frenzy, but the rain of blows took their toll on her. Had J'onn not stepped in when he had, the Kryptonian could have pummeled her until there was not much left. That had prompted his intervention.

"I'll be okay," Diana answered him, her voice revealing the fatigue she felt. "Something is wrong with Superman."

"Indeed." Faintly, J'onn could feel a force being directed at the Kryptonian. Had he not been sensitive to mental manipulation, he would not have detected it whatsoever. Unfortunately, it would require some concentration to unearth the mental link and break it—that was time that he did not have at the moment. Superman was preparing to attack again and with Diana at less than full strength, it was up to him to hold off the Man of Steel before he did something he would regret.

"There is someone, or something controlling Superman," the Martian spoke then, Diana's head perking up at his words. "I can delay Superman, but you need to locate the source."

"Consider it done, J'onn," the Amazon declared before she turned and took off towards a different part of the warehouse.

"You're not going anywhere, Frenzay," Superman suddenly shouted before he took off flying after Diana, moving to intercept the Amazon. Identifying an intersecting course, J'onn launched himself into the air, flying as fast as he could until he and Superman arrived at the predetermined collision point. Although he didn't want to do this, there was little choice in the matter as his friend was capable of damaging Diana whether he wanted to or not.

"Forgive me, my friend," J'onn murmured to himself as he drew back a fist and threw it, slamming it into the side of Superman's face. The force of the blow knocked the Kryptonian off course, sending him crashing to the ground, where he skipped on it like a rock over water, stopping only when he collided with a stack of crates.

For a moment, Superman didn't move, though J'onn was patient. As expected, the Man of Steel slowly pushed himself back onto his feet, shaking his head as he recovered from the Martian's punch. Then, he turned his head to look at the green-skinned man with a frown on his face. "You're only making this harder on yourself, Frenzay."

That caused J'onn to mimic Superman's frown with one of his own. If he was interpreting this correctly, Superman believed he was Frenzay. Furthermore, he must have believed Diana was Frenzay at some point as well. That at least gave him a starting point on how to break the link. He just needed to make the time to do so lest Superman pound him into green paste on the floor. Until Diana found Frenzay, or he managed to find the link itself, J'onn would have to buy time the—how did the humans say it? The old-fashion way?

And as Superman charged at him with his full Kryptonian strength, J'onn met him with his Martian strength. The outcome could not have been more uncertain.

* * *

The scaffolding shook as tremors vibrated through them. There was something going on in a different part of the building, something with enough power to shake the very building to the foundation. Batman had an idea of who was causing it, but as long as they stayed where they were, he was perfectly fine with confirming it at a later time.

The previous owners of this building had installed security cameras throughout the building. The network had been nonfunctional for some time, but it wasn't difficult to hack in and reactivate them. It was because of these cameras that he was here.

Along with the security cameras, renovations were underway. As far as Batman could tell, it had been quite some time since anyone worked this site, though he suspected the reason why. One could only pour in so much money before they realized they had created a money pit. Currently he was crouched on a set of scaffolding, looking down on a corridor. Everything was quiet so far.

That made it so much easier to access his meditation arts. With his mind calm, he emptied it of anything and everything; every worry, every thought, every suspicion left him. He was at peace, a feeling as foreign as it was comforting. The rest of the world didn't matter; there was only him and him alone.

Hinges squealed then, a door opening at one end of the hallway. The sound of footsteps echoed through the hall, a tall shadow stretching out due to the dim lighting. Batman didn't think about them, only focused on keeping his mind clear of thought, calm despite who he was certain was here.

The shadow grew bigger with every step that was taken until it blanketed the floor completely. Breathing steady, Batman leaned forward until he was off his perch, allowing gravity to drop him like a rock. Air raced by his falling form, his hands tightly holding his cape around his body to prevent the slightest resistance it would have made had it caught any wind.

A moment later and his feet landed on top of a pair shoulders. The force he hit them caused the person to cry out with pain and surprise, their legs giving out as they dropped to the floor. Using his target as a springboard, Batman leapt off of them, flipping feet over head until he landed, spinning around to face his foe.

Sprawled on the floor was Frenzay, a pained expression on his face. A hissing sound came from his tightly clenched teeth, eyes squeezed closed. Then he opened them, catching sight of the dark-clad man. "You," he growled, finally a hint of anger in his usually cold voice. Rolling onto his stomach, he pushed himself up, staring at the vigilante with something akin to anger on his face.

It seemed Frenzay hadn't been expecting an ambush during his escape. That was entirely due to Batman's drive for serenity. If a mind-reader needed thoughts in order to detect a presence, eliminating thought was the logical conclusion to fighting them. Instinct did not require forethought and was thus unpredictable.

"I do not know why you persist in this act of irrationality, but it comes to an end now," the purple alien declared. He raised his arms up, hands balled into fists. It seemed he was fully intent on fighting.

Too bad Batman had no such inclinations.

With practiced ease, Batman threw open his cape, unleashing a barrage of bat-shaped shuriken. There was no telling how many were flying, only that Frenzay began backpedaling in response. All around him the shuriken flew by, some harmlessly by his sides, a couple that crossed right in front of him only to end up embedded in the walls. However, a couple did graze him, leaving cut marks where they broke the skin.

Once he was sure it was over, Frenzay charged at the Dark Knight, closing the distance between rapidly. Leaning backwards, Batman pushed off the ground with his feet, going into a back flip just in time to dodge the alien's first strike, which just so happened to be a punch to where his face had been. Hands touching the floor, the vigilante sprung off of them, completing the flip as he landed on his feet.

That didn't stop Frenzay from continuing his attack, throwing another punch at him. Ducking it this time, Batman brought an arm across his chest before swinging it out. The triangle blades on his gauntlet struck true, unlike his foe, the sharp ends digging into the alien's thigh and ripping through it.

Unfortunately, the alien appeared unfazed by the cut, putting all of his weight on the injured leg and raised the other one. The next thing Batman knew, a knee rammed into his face, throwing him backwards as spit and blood flew out of his mouth.

Landing with his back on the ground, Batman forced his body to keep moving, swinging his legs up as he used his momentum to roll him bottom over shoulders until he was back on his feet. His eyes widened a moment later when he saw Frenzay looming over him, a drawn fist swinging towards him.

Launching himself forward, Batman went into a roll again, this time rolling right by the alien's side even as his fist hit the floor where the vigilante had been crouching. There was a crunching sound, one he was familiar enough with to know that belonged to cement breaking. The moment he had his feet back under him, he was spinning around to see his opponent turning to meet him, glaring at the dark-clad man.

"You cannot win this one," Frenzay warned him, taking a step towards him. "Your defeat was predetermined the moment you were born."

"That's where you and I disagree," Batman responded, holding his ground. "This fight was decided a minute ago. You just didn't realize it."

When Frenzay took another step towards him, the alien wobbled. He didn't seem to realize it, not until his legs were completely unstable beneath him that he was forced to use the wall to brace himself. "What...what is happening to me?" the purple alien gasped.

Batman glanced at one of the shuriken protruding from the wall. While that particular one hadn't done much, the couple that had cut Frenzay had been laced with a powerful sedative, one developed by the dark-clad man. It was obvious at this point that the compound was taking effect as the alien dropped to his knees, just barely getting his hands up to brace himself from completely collapsing.

Standing up straight, the Dark Knight cautiously approached the alien, coming to stand in front of him and causing Frenzay to look up. "You lost," Batman answered him before he leaned backwards and raised up a leg. Lashing out, he slammed the bottom of his boot against the alien's face with a vicious front kick, effectively knocking him out. Frenzay completely dropped to the ground, lying there unmoving.

As Batman settled himself, keeping his gaze on his fallen foe, he soon found his attention being diverted. The door in front of him was violently shoved open, Wonder Woman dashing into the hall before she slowed to a stop the moment her eyes fell upon the vigilante and Frenzay.

It seemed her timing couldn't have been better.

* * *

To kapilyadav97: There could be a tinge, I admit. We'll just have to see how it plays out.

To Delta808th: Reluctantly and not afraid to use the other if need be? I think that sounds about right.

To Anonymous Void: That's because Frenzay is an OC. Couldn't dredge up an actual character to use so I made one. I'm surprised you recall that review.

To najem eddine: Thanks.


	7. The MPD Interrogations

The interrogation room was bare save for a small metal table and a few chairs. David Townsend sat in one of those chairs, fidgeting nervously. Occasionally he would glance to the double-sided glass window, a vain attempt to figure out who was watching him and why.

On the other side of that glass stood Batman, watching the rich man sweat metaphorical bullets. They were both residing within the Metropolis PD since this was where Hawkgirl had brought Townsend. Coincidentally, jail cells had been renovated and designed to hold super-powered criminals, which was also a big reason the alien Frenzay was also locked up here. Warrants had been put out for Dorsey and Schroeder, but as of yet, both men were still on the loose.

Tearing his eyes away from Townsend, Batman glanced to the security camera in the corner of the room. As per protocol, everything was being recorded. They were of little concern to the dark-clad man, so he returned his sights to the millionaire. The vigilante was the only person in the room, having entered the room stealthily. The last thing he wanted right now was one of the Leaguers knowing he was in the building.

Pulling out his palm pilot, Batman activated the device and began hacking into the MPD mainframe. From there, he accessed the security feeds, recording a solid minute of Townsend sitting and twitching in his chair. Once he had his video, he programed it to run on a loop and switched the security feed over. Now, if anyone were to look at the cameras from any part of the building, they would only see Townsend.

Pocketing the palm pilot, Batman moved over to a nearby door and opened it. In response, Townsend looked over to the doorway and paled instantly when he saw the vigilante emerging through the threshold. "Oh sweet Jesus," he swore, body stiffening and unconsciously leaning away.

Closing the door behind him, Batman strolled up to his target, stopping next to him and leaning over him. "I have questions, Townsend," he growled, "and it would be in your best interest to answer every one I have."

"N-no way, no way, man," Townsend stuttered. "I won't speak without my lawyer."

Batman's scowl deepened, his face drawing closer to further increase the man's discomfort. It worked. "Your lawyer won't protect you from me."

"Th-those heroes will."

"The Justice League isn't here. They left an hour ago after your friend was locked up." Townsend's already pale face whitened so much he looked like a sheet now. "It's just you and me now." One of his hands rested on the table, drawing the rich man's attention to how close it was to his own hands. No doubt he was thinking of all the horrible things that could be done to him, what with the vigilante's threats at the warehouse still fresh in his mind, not to mention the dark-clad man's reputation. "Here's your chance to talk. Tell me what I want to know and you'll walk out of here in one piece."

"And if I don't?"

"When you leave this room, it won't be under your own power."

Seeing the terror on Townsend's face reach its peak, Batman decided to press on with his interrogation. "I want to know everything you know about Frenzay."

That was when Townsend went off script. Instead of blubbering out everything he knew, he looked confused. "Frenzay? Who the Hell is that?"

No, no way was this guy playing innocent. Hand shooting up, Batman slammed it down on the table, causing it to shake from the force, the rich man flinching away. "Frenzay, the man that pays you. You were talking with him at the warehouse."

"I swear to God, I don't know anyone with that name!" Townsend pleaded, cringing as far away as he could from the vigilante. "I don't know this Frenzy guy, or a warehouse, or him paying me. I swear!"

There was no limit to the number of people that had claimed this to the Dark Knight. Every time he had heard it, he knew the person was lying to him. It helped that he usually had prior knowledge to his suspect's contacts. Unfortunately he didn't have that familiarity with the residence of Metropolis.

However, he could read body language expertly, and something was telling him that Townsend might not be lying. It went against the entire scene of him scheming with Frenzay at the warehouse, but there was signs that indicated otherwise. Townsend stared right at him, never glancing away. His fear was very real, but that was the only reason his body was trembling, not that he was attempting to hide something incriminating. There was a distinct lack of sweat as well.

All this told the Dark Knight was that Townsend believed himself to be telling the truth, not what the reality of it was. So he decided to go at a different angle. "Dorsey introduced the two of you, you've already admitted as much."

"Dorsey?" Townsend questioned. "Freddy Dorsey? Why the heck would I associate with anyone he knows? We're competitors!"

"Yet you run around in the same social circles."

"What, just because Dorsey is at the same party as I am, doesn't mean I can't go," the man protested. "Hazards of keeping the same contacts."

A growing suspicion rose into Batman's head. A theory was forming, but he needed to confirm something first. "Then can you explain to me why you have advanced military weaponry in your warehouses?"

"I have _what_ in my _what_?" Townsend shrieked. "I don't store weapons! Never, ever! My father would skin me alive if he were still alive!"

Batman straightened his posture out as he stood at his full height. "We'll see about that," he said before he spun around and left the interrogation room. He didn't even glance backward as the door behind him closed; he did see Townsend leaning over the metal table, arms propping his head up. Pausing long enough to deactivate his security program and restoring the feeds to their correct functions, he left the stunned millionaire to his thoughts.

Making his destination the MPD special holding area, Batman considered his suspicions. If he recalled right, during tonight's bust, Superman had been tricked by Frenzay into attacking Wonder Woman and the Martian Manhunter, or so they claimed. If Frenzay had such telepathic abilities, then it was entirely possible he had been using those same powers to make Townsend and the others more malleable to suggestion, if not flat out controlled their every action until they were of no more use, much like Townsend now. In fact, when Dorsey and Schroeder arrived, it wouldn't surprise him if they acted the same way as their comrade.

They were only pawns in this so it was a waste of time to consider them further. It seemed Frenzay was now the only lead left to investigate. If he wasn't mistaken, his sedative should be wearing off soon. He needed to get there before that happened.

* * *

The room was as sterile as it came, or at least that was the intended appearance. Fluorescent lights made the white walls eye-piercingly bright. In the middle of the room was a steel chair, bolted to the floor. Strapped down was Frenzay, his head bowed forward, eyes closed.

This was the Special Crimes Unit lock down unit, built to contain the strongest of criminals. Superman himself had been restrained here to make sure they worked. While he could break out of it after several seconds, he was fairly certain none of the people he had fought over the years could do the same save for the more intergalactic ones. Considering a guy dressed up as a bat had managed to take this alien down, Superman was sure the restraints would keep him contained. There was the matter of his psychic powers, but J'onn had remedied that. When asked, the Martian had merely given a small smile and said nothing.

Staring through the double-pane glass, Superman watched with a critical eye, arms crossed over his broad chest. It was because of this man that the Kryptonian had fought his friends. Neither one was blaming him and even forgave him, but that didn't make him feel any less guilty.

At his side was Diana, who looked great despite the dirt and grime at various places on her face and arms. There was even a bruise or two, but she held herself regally in spite of it. She too had her arms crossed in front of her, blue eyes focused on their suspect.

And next to her was J'onn, perhaps the most tranquil of the three. His arms dangled at his sides, not that you could see them beneath his cape. Whereas the dark-haired heroes wore hard expressions on their faces, the Martian was stoic as usual. It was as if he were unfazed by everything around him.

"So, you brought me another of your wackos," an accented voice spoke. Superman tilted his head to a side to spot a man in a blue suit, hair overly gelled to his head, yet all attention went to his bushy eyebrows. Lieutenant Dan Turpin was crass and blunt, but he was a very good police officer. His insults were just how he dealt with things.

"So tell me what this guy's deal is," the officer said as he came to a stop next to the Man of Steel. "Looks like a fish crawled out a grape jelly factory."

"He's been storing advance military guns throughout Metropolis," Superman answered him. "As far as we can tell, he has super strength and some mind control abilities, so be careful with him."

Dan looked to Superman before his eyes darted over to Diana and J'onn. "They contributing anything to this, or is this one of your solo things?"

"This is a Justice League matter," the dark-haired man answered. "J'onn's already take steps to containing his mind control powers, so that should help things. We need to talk with him to find out what he's up to and who he's working for."

"Then he's all mine," Dan summed up, hands grabbing onto his belt and pulling his pants up over his beer belly. "Take all the time you need and tell Maggie when you're through. I got a couple of smart ass junkies in booking to smack around." Turning on his heels, he strolled out of the room, leaving the Leaguers to themselves.

"I see Lieutenant Turpin is still in good spirits," J'onn remarked after a moment.

Superman nodded as he returned his attention to Frenzay. "It's time we get this guy speaking. Did Batman tell either of you how long that sedative should last?"

"Right about now," a gruff voice answered. Superman jumped where he stood, followed instantly by his head snapping to a side. On the opposite side of J'onn stood the vigilante, looking at the window as if he had been there the entire time. A glance to the glass showed the reflection of the other two heroes, both of whom had similar surprised looks as they looked tot he dark-clad man.

"How long have you been there?" the Kryptonian exclaimed.

"Long enough," Batman answered cryptically. "How strong are those power suppressors you installed?"

Though he didn't look at either of them, it was clear he was asking J'onn his question. Settling down, J'onn replied, "Frenzay should be unable to enter your mind once they're activated; as a back-up, I intend to use my own telepathic powers to keep him at bay."

"So there is a possibility he could still overcome the suppressors."

"A small one, but one all the same. From my own probings, I detected that his powers are not as developed as my own."

"Then if we're going to continue being cautious, I should be the only one to go in there."

"No, you will not," Diana immediately denied, her expression hardening as well. "You're interrogation tactics will not be used here."

"And they won't be," Batman reassured her. "But if Frenzay were to get control of you in there, there's no telling how much damage he could make you do. The same with Superman. It would be safer if I went in; that way if he gets control of me, I won't level the entire building."

It was sound reasoning, Superman had to admit, but he was on Diana's side on this. He had heard stories of Batman's methods, mostly from crooks that had fled to Metropolis from Gotham, never mind the video feeds he had seen in the fabled Batcave. Most of the MPD had pulled their hair out of their heads in collective frustration from smug thieves used to being beaten or dropped off of buildings for information. Such drastic methods made the usual "Good Cop, Bad Cop" routine worthless. "I agree with Wonder Woman. We can't let you in there alone."

Batman turned his gaze from the glass and stared at the Man of Steel. The look was blank, but he could feel those white eyes boring into him. His skin began to crawl from his unease.

"Fine, then the Martian can go with me," the vigilante acquiescent. "Unlike you two, he can at least protect himself from a mental intrusion."

Again, he was right, but his delivery left something to be desired. Diana bristled at his side before responding, "Neither one of you can use the Lasso of Truth. If we are to get to the bottom of this quickly, I will have to be one the goes in there."

"We won't be needing it," Batman said, turning his head back to the window. "One of the side effects of the sedative I gave him should make him very...talkative...when he wakes up."

"Along with a splitting headache?" Superman prodded.

For once, the Man of Steel felt he had surprised the dark-clad man as his head seemed to perk up at those words. "You know of the sedative," he stated, no question apparent in his words.

"Flash found it coated on one of your batarangs," the Kryptonian informed him. "He was out for half an hour and woke up asking for aspirin." He frowned then. "Why is Frenzay still out if it only lasted a short time with Flash?"

"The Flash has an abnormally high metabolism, so he burnt through the sedative very quickly. On a normal person, such as Frenzay, it'll last a few hours."

"I didn't notice Flash being more truthful either," Diana pointed out as well.

"That's because Flash can't stop talking for more than ten seconds," Batman replied bluntly. "You wouldn't have noticed a difference to be honest."

Before they could continue, J'onn spoke up, "I agree with Batman, the two of us will be more than enough to interrogate Frenzay. Any risk at all that he takes over one of your minds is too high."

"What about the power dampeners?" Diana questioned "I thought you said those were working."

For once, the Martian appeared bashful. "I apologize for any deception I may have conveyed. While I have installed them, they need time to charge, so currently they are inactive. That is why I am personally suppressing Frenzay's powers at this time."

There was a moment of dumbfounded silence from the dark-haired heroes before Superman responded, "Oh."

"Whenever you're ready," Batman said then, striding to a nearby door. Clearly he was working on his own time rather than theirs, though J'onn wasn't put off by this, merely following calmly behind the dark-clad man. Staring through the window, Superman and Diana watched as the two men stood between the glass and Frenzay's restrained form. "Wake up," the vigilante demanded roughly.

A scowl appeared on Superman's face. Already he was regretting allowing Batman in the room. Barking orders at an unconscious suspect had to be against an interrogator's rule or something.

Yet, it seemed to work as Frenzay raised his head up, squinting his eyes as he looked at the vigilante. "It's you," he stated before glancing to J'onn.

"I'm only going to ask this once," Batman continued. "Where did you get the weapons?"

Frenzay returned his attention to the dark-clad man. If Superman wasn't mistaken, there seemed to be a sway in his movement—a possible indication of being drugged? Still, the man answered, "Kalanor."

That wasn't the name of any country or city that Superman knew of, so it had to be a planet. So far so good. "Why are you storing them of Earth?" Batman demanded.

Frenzay shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Why else, Human? Preparation."

The Kryptonian leaned closer to the glass. _Preparation for what?_ he asked in his head, sure that J'onn probably heard the thought. The Martian, however, either ignored the question, or felt it wasn't time to ask it as he took his turn to question the suspect. "You needed Frederick Dorsey, David Townsend, and others for this preparation of yours?"

The purple alien turned his head to look at the green-skinned man, the visible sway still present in his movement. "Needed, no. They were just convenient, really."

"How many weapons do you have here?" Batman suddenly questioned, his tone full of suspicion. If Superman wasn't mistaken, the vigilante sounded as if he already knew the answer.

A smirk appeared on Frenzay's face. "More than enough to render your militaries obsolete. When we come, there is no force on this measly planet that will stop us, stop him. You will know despair at his coming and feel only regret as he crushes your skulls in his hand."

The alien's body suddenly thrashed against his restraints, a bid to free himself though the straps held strong. "Do what you want with me, Human, but I have already succeeded in my mission. Your fate has been sealed!" For once, his voice lost the cool tone, becoming loud and unrestrained.

Lightning quick, Batman's hand shot out and wrapped around the man's neck. The back of Frenzay's head bashed against the headrest of the metal chair he sat in. Immediately, Superman and Diana made to head for the door when J'onn suddenly threw one of his arms up, not to stop Batman, but to gesture for the two of them to stop. That was the only thing that made them halt where they stood.

Leaning closer, Batman stared into Frenzay's eyes, letting his stony face do all the work of intimidating the alien. "What's the name of your boss?" he asked gruffly.

The smirk never left Frenzay's face, his voice returning to its neutral tone as he coolly responded to Batman's scowl with, "He is called Despero, Conqueror of a Hundred Worlds, wielder of the Flame of Py'tar. Enjoy the time you have left for they will be your last."

Suddenly, Frenzay's body stiffened before jolting flat against the back of the chair. His eyes rolled into the back of his head until only the whites of his eyes were visible. Then, out of nowhere, purple flames erupted out of his body, causing Batman to snatch his hand back at the last moment, losing his footing as he stumbled to the floor. A deafening scream rang out from Frenzay as he became a pillar of flames, his body fading into a silhouette before completely vanishing from sight.

Superman and Diana were in the room at once, the Kryptonain putting himself between the burning Frenzay and J'onn, who was cringing away from the flames. Diana was at Batman's side, kneeling next to him as she held his hand with her own, which was covered with scorch marks.

And still Frenzay burned.

* * *

There was a slight breeze atop the MPD. It had been an hour since Frenzay had burst into into flames, leaving only scorch marks in his wake. There hadn't even been ashes left of him.

Turpin was having a cow downstairs. He never liked suspects escaping his custody, even if it was by spontaneous combustion. After a debrief, the members of the Justice League had gathered on the precinct's roof. They were scattered about, all six of them staring at Batman, who returned their collected gaze with one of his own. His cape covered his body currently despite it flapping with the breeze. It just made him a vision of a wraith.

So naturally it was Flash that blurred from his spot to stand next to him. "Not bad for your first League mission, eh Bats? Busted up an arms deal, took down an alien who decided being charbroiled was in-season—what more could you ask for?"

Batman turned his head, giving him a bland look that probably said, "Are you kidding me?" At least that's what Superman hoped it said. He could easily change that to, "You're an idiot, aren't you?" or "Don't make me hurt you."

Fortunately, Hawkgirl was there to reel the red-clad man in. "Flash, get over here before you hurt yourself."

Flash gave the winged woman a confused look before he shrugged his shoulders, zipping back to where he previously had been standing. Deciding that this was a second chance for them and the dark-clad man to leave on more amicable terms, Superman stepped forward, closing the distance between them until he stood in front of Gotham's vigilante. "We appreciate all you did on this case. Thank you." He then extended a hand, offering a handshake.

Batman glanced at the offered hand before looking to the Kryptonian's face, leaving him hanging. "I'm assuming this is the end of our collaboration, correct?"

Superman dropped his hand to his side. "Yes, it is."

"Good."

The vigilante spun on his heels, turning his back on the League as he began walking towards the roof's edge. The dismissive exit sat wrong with the Man of Steel as he frowned at the leaving man's back. Because of that, he couldn't help but call out, "From what Frenzay said, there's some sort of invasion coming. All of us are going to have to deal with it, including you."

That made Batman stop, turning his head to look at the Kryptonian from the corner of his eye. "That's your jurisdiction, don't you think?"

"We could use your help."

"Sorry, I don't do alien invasions."

"Smart choice," Flash quietly joked. It was a murmur, but thanks to super-hearing, Superman heard every word.

"If that's what you want, we'll respect it," the Man of Steel said to the Bat. "If you like, we can offer you a ride to your hotel."

"There's no need. I checked out before I checked out Townsend's warehouse."

That caused Superman to frown to return. "Then you're leaving town?"

"That's right."

"How?"

As if in answer, the hum of an engine filled the air. A sleek, black plane then emerged over the side of the MPD. A strong wind raged at the heroes, causing capes to fluttered about, hair to whip wildly, and a few of the Leaguers to raise their arms up to protect their faces. Even Superman had to raise a hand up to shield his face, eyes squinting at the plane.

Batman, from what he could see, just faced the plane, his cape billowing behind him. He then approached it, reaching the ledge and leaping up onto the wing. The glass canopy of the plane slid open as he walked along the wing, jumping into the cockpit without so much as a glance at the League.

As the canopy slid shut, the plane rose up higher and higher into the air, Superman following with his eyes. Getting a good luck at its bottom, he couldn't help but notice how much it looked like a bat from this angle.

Then, flames erupted out of the back and a deafening roar blasted out, the plane streaking through the sky as it headed out towards the horizon. The League was left watching as the vehicle grew smaller and smaller in the early morning sky.

"So, did anyone know Bats got himself a Bat-plane?" Flash asked after awhile.

"More like a Bat-jet," John replied, still looking out to the horizon. "But he was right, this sort of thing is over his head. It'd probably be best if he sat it out."

"It's a shame we couldn't get more information out of Frenzay," Diana lamented. "We don't know when this invasionary force will arrive, only that it's coming."

"Indeed," J'onn agreed. "If his words were any indication, there should be more of his comrades on Earth, doing the same as he was. Perhaps we can locate these individuals and question them as well."

"It's worth a shot, but we need to hurry," John said, finally turning to look at the rest of the team.

"Safe to say we've driven them out of Metropolis at least," Flash added, which earned him pointed looks from the rest of the League. "Hey, all I'm saying is who would be dumb enough to keep trying to store weapons here after what just happened? If anything, they'd be trying to get the weapons out of town."

"That's a good point, Flash," Superman admitted.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second," Hawkgirl suddenly spoke. "Did that Frenzay guy even mention why they're storing guns here?"

Superman, Diana, and J'onn looked to each other, questioning looks on their faces before the answer dawned on them. "He said something about preparation," the Kryptonian replied.

"Preparation for the invasion?" the Thanagarian pressed. "If theses guys are as advanced as we're thinking, then why even bother storing weapons on the planet? They could just as easily wipe Earth out with their own weaponry."

When she was met with silence, she continued, "The only thing I can come up with is this invasion force may not be as strong as advertised. So they bring these plasma rifles, put them all over the world. Why? So that they can infiltrate ground forces and hit us with a double-prong attack."

"Isn't that a bit contradictory?" Flash pointed out. "I mean, if they don't have enough people, why send a bunch of them here in the first place? If I were them, I'd just use my mind control powers and make a bunch of people into my own personal army."

Unfortunately, that made too much sense to Superman. "I think we're looking at this the wrong way. We don't know nearly enough about what's going on."

"Which puts us back at finding these other stashes," John said. "It would be best if we started now instead of later."

"Agreed. We split up into pairs and branch out." Superman looked at the rest of the team before he began making the pairs in his head. "I'll go with J'onn. If one of these aliens were to get control of me again, I know he'll be able to stop me.

"John, you and Diana should check out your respective cities. Hawkgirl, you and Flash do the same."

"Bad idea," Hawkgirl disagreed. "Detroit and Gateway City I can see, but not Midway or Central City."

"Huh? What's wrong with them?" Flash asked.

"For one, neither of them are big commercial cities. Metropolis and Gateway are two of the largest port cities on the Eastern seaboard, so they'll have plenty of warehouses and storage buildings for what Frenzay and his people are doing."

"So where does that leave us?" the red-clad man inquired.

"Where do you think? To check another port city like Metropolis."

"Oh. Which one is that?"

It was at that point Superman began to realize where Hawkgirl was getting at and he had a feeling someone was going to be very unhappy about it. It was a shame since they had ended things on a better note too.


	8. Begin The Invasion

The planet stood out like a jewel in a sea of darkness, glittering specks of stars surrounding it at random points. Brilliant blues mingled with whites and greens and browns. It was aesthetically pleasing to the eye.

All the more ripe for conquering.

The bridge was silent. Kalanorians manned their computer stations, attentions focused on the screens before them. None dared to utter a word lest they incurred his wrath. They knew where they stood and just how far beneath him they belonged. In fact, all living things were mere amusements at best, purposeless at their worst. In his eyes, there were more of the latter than the former.

In the middle of the huge, round room was a large chair, easily the size of two of the computer stations. Seated was a Kalanorian larger than all others, a blue cloak covering his hardened, pinkish skin. The fin on his head extended higher than all others, signifying his aristocracy, if not his outright dominion.

He stared at the overhead screen of Earth. It had been by happenstance that one of his scouting patrols had found this planet, though it presented a boon. Though there were much more fertile planets, ones that held much in terms of resources and strategic positioning, this one could only add to his empire and army. This front had taken some losses as of late and fresh blood was needed. It wasn't like there was anyone to oppose his ultimate decision, disagreement having been rooted out of his people long ago.

In addition, it also helped that the inhabitants were easily subdued. His many scouts had reported as such considering the amount of equipment that was already stored there. The planet was rife with ill-intent and destructive urges—it made for perfect puppets. That didn't factor in the abysmal status of the inhabitants' defensive weapons and systems. This was one of the few planets that was fractured into different factions across the globe, each faction creating its own weaponry and technology—all of which was substandard.

Conquest should be all but assured.

A slit on his forehead opened then, revealing an eye. While his two main ones were focused on the screen before him, this third eye stared into a much different realm. Visions, sounds, and thoughts assaulted his mind, but this was nothing new. All it did was make him burn with anticipation.

A presence stood next to him. Closing his third eye, the large alien tilted his head to a side, regarding the Kalanorian standing next to his chair. "Lord Despero, we are minutes from the target," the officer spoke.

Despero returned his gaze to the screen. "Proceed to breach the atmosphere. Initiate our ground forces."

"As you command." The officer turned on his heels and strode off to enact his order. Despero never saw the point in enjoying the calm before the storm, as a long deceased Kalanorian philosopher once said. His forces were unstoppable, all commanded by him. Only cowards hesitated when on the verge of battle.

Despero never hesitated.

* * *

The light of the super-computer bathed Batman in a soft glow. The program tracing the Court of Owls members was running with the recently added intel collected from van Haussen, though that would take some time to get a hit.

Despite the routine, however, a sense of impending doom had settled in his stomach and refused to leave. His jaunt with the Justice League had been unsettling, especially considering the spontaneous combustion of an alien right before his eyes. He had seen many things in his time, but that was a new one.

Still, it was up to the League to put this threat to an end, not him. The dark-clad man had gone above and beyond his duty to secure them the information those heroes requested at the expense of his other projects. Even now he could sense Cassandra somewhere in the cave, watching him with unblinking eyes. She had probably been wondering at his absence and the limited progress since he had left a few nights ago. He hadn't divulged anything to her and he knew she wouldn't ask—all the better.

Though she couldn't voice it, he knew she must have been feeling some frustration with this sudden stop in progress. He could relate to that; the thought of running into a dead end was stomach churning at best. It gnawed and festered from within, poisoning rational thought until it was unrecognizable. It didn't help that she knew his routine, how he would obtain information and immediately enter it into the computer for further analysis. When a deviation presented itself, it could throw everything off. Considering she hadn't pushed him upon his return to the cave to immediately take up the investigation again, she was showing some considerable self-restraint.

Suddenly, a new window opened, alerting the vigilante that his computer had discovered something. It took a moment for Batman to realize that the new window did not contain an update on the Court of Owls, but of a media player. A voice began playing over the speakers, perking the Dark Knight's head up. " _Dispatch, this is Unit 45, I've got some weird shit going on out here."_

" _Unit 45, this is Dispatch. What kind of weird are you talking about?"_

" _Weird as in I'm seeing this—there it is again! Red streak at the corner of 8th and Oak Grove, I repeat, red streak at 8th and Oak Grove."_

Batman narrowed his eyes. Standing up, he left the computer station, cape billowing behind him as he made his way towards the plane. It didn't take much to know what the officer was seeing and it sounded as if someone was racing through the Gotham streets over and over—a superhero someone. If he was going to hunt them down, he was going to do it from a bird's eye view and not blinding searching the streets.

A part of him was incensed as well. Apparently the Justice League thought they could stroll into his city without him learning of their activity. The gall they had, especially after the antics of their members. He had just about enough of them; when he found them, he was going to make it very plain that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with them and the next time they even thought of passing through Gotham, they would learn just how much of a bad idea that was.

However, before he reached the jet, movement caught his eye. Pausing, he saw Cassandra standing out in the open, staring at him blankly. Her black clothes helped her blend in with her surroundings, her pale skin seeming to glow through the gloom. Though she was emotionless, her body language was anything but. She was humming with anticipation, on edge like an addict shaking from their urges. It was strange considering the girl was chemically clean, though it took him a moment to realize just what was making her so restless. She was a trained assassin who was sitting in the stocks; she must have felt her fighting senses beginning to dull, her skills becoming rusty. It wouldn't be long now before she began to feel increased anxiety and crave an outlet, if not spilled blood.

That was not a problem he needed right now.

"Stay here," he ordered. "I'll be right back." Passing by her, he felt Cassandra follow him with her eyes. Though she was teeming with energy, he knew she would follow his orders, unlike some people.

Reaching the plane, he climbed the ladder next to it and settled into the cockpit. Pushing the ladder back, its wheels allowing it to roll a short distance away, Batman then activated the flying wing, the computer systems lighting up the dashboard as the engine roared to life.

Time to find himself some heroes.

* * *

As unfortunate as it was, Gateway City proved to be just like Metropolis, loaded with warehouses of plasma rifles. The same could be said of Detroit, which galled John Stewart to no end. That was his hometown and he couldn't stomach the fact that someone managed to sneak in shipment after shipment of space tech right under his nose. Diana seemed to be handling their latest discover well, but then she had been raised to believe the worst in men. While she had shown willingness to accept that not all men were evil, she was never taken back by the levels to which they could sink either. This was just another example to her.

"So, J'onn was right," John remarked after a moment of staring into a recently opened crate, the sight of very familiar guns greeting him. "There's a world-wide armament going on."

"We need to find the people responsible for this," Diana replied. "Finding these weapons is doing nothing more than confirming what we already know."

"Agreed. Unfortunately, we'd only find some rich stiff being used by Frenzay's buddies. With him gone, I doubt the other Kalanorians are going to chance coming out into the open for us to capture them."

At least, that's what John said before the warehouse doors suddenly began sliding open. Stepping back from the open crate so he could look around Diana, the Green Lantern spotted a large crowd of men entering the building, many of whom held plasma rifles in their hands. They must have opened another weapon's stash before coming here and their very appearance indicated they were here for these rifles as well. There was only one reason they would be wanting the weapons as well and that only made John scowl.

The stopped in their tracks then, their collective attention on the two Leaguers. Clearly they weren't expecting them. That hesitation was all they did before someone shouted, "Ice 'em!"

Immediately, plasma rifles were aimed right at the heroes and were quickly followed by bright yellow beams being fired. Instantly, John threw his arm up, ring glowing as he fired a green beam, one that stopped a short distance away before exploding out in all different directions. A green dome formed around the two, shielding them just as the blasts arrived, beating down on the shield.

"What's going on?" Diana demanded as she shifted closer to him, her body already in a defensive stance, eyes darting from side to side on edge.

"I think we're under attack," John replied, some strain in his voice. "Either someone found out we're here, or we just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"How long can you hold up the shield?"

"As long as I have to, but I get the feeling those guns have unlimited ammo. Hold on a moment, I'm going to try something."

Channeling more of his will into his ring, John's shield glowed a brighter green before the shield rapidly began expanding. The distance between the shield and their attackers disappeared quickly until it slammed right into them. The men cried out as they were thrown backwards, crashing into walls and on the floor.

The moment John relaxed his will, allowing his shield to dissipate, Diana launched into the air and flew straight at the fallen men. All the while, the Green Lantern kept his hand up, a spark dancing on the face of his ring. The moment he saw one of the men start to climb onto his feet, John send a beam of energy at him, hitting them on the head and dropping them back onto the floor. These beams only had the strength to stun, if not knock out the target. Every time he noticed someone getting up, he fired another blast, watching with satisfaction as they were rendered unconscious. He didn't have to do this to all of them as Diana was quick to strike, punching and kick the men and sending them flying into the walls, or the stacks of crates around them.

Soon, there wasn't a single of the attackers fighting, instead lying slumped on the floor. Dropping his hand down, John approached them, eyeing them critically to make sure that none were playing possum. However, he soon caught sight of Diana standing outside the warehouse through the open door. Frowning, he changed course and approached her.

The dark-haired woman was looking straight up into the sky, eyes transfixed on something. This only puzzled the Lantern. When John joined her, the Amazon simply said, "I think we have a problem."

"And that would...be..." he trailed off as he looked up to the sky. It didn't take much for him to realize just what the problem was.

Large spaceships filled the sky. Most were space cruisers if his eyes weren't mistaken, though there were a few that were clearly designed as battleships, what with the multiple enormous guns on their hulls. Red and orange lights, coupled with what looked like smoke indicated they were descending through the atmosphere at high speeds.

This couldn't be good.

* * *

This was most unexpected.

J'onn had been accompanying Superman as they tied up the investigation in Metropolis. Dorsey and Schroeder had been apprehended since the League had separated atop the police precinct. An examination of both men's minds had confirmed that they too had been mere pawns, much like Townsend. Further probing was unnecessary at that point. In fact, they had gone to find another shipment of the plasma rifles when they had been alerted to the invasion force that was falling from the sky.

Standing on the wharf of Metropolis' docks, the Martian was having to shut his mind down to prevent the overwhelming flood of murderous intent he was sensing from those ships. While he had grown used to that feeling during his stay on Earth, having a flood of fresh, battle-ready aliens all at once threatened to overwhelm him. He would just have to slowly reopen his telepathic pathways to adjust to the sheer volume of it all.

Beside him stood Superman, a serious expression on his face. J'onn didn't have to read the Kryptonian's mind to know he was upset by this intrusion. The man had clenched his hands into fists so tightly the green-skinned man worried his friend would puncture his own skin.

" _Superman, J'onn, this is Lantern. We have a situation over here."_

J'onn kept his stoic look as he continued to watch the descending ships. Slowly he began opening his mind, starting with the people he knew best. Already he could sense apprehension through their mental link and he didn't have to guess as to why that was.

Superman raised a hand to his ear to active the comm. link. "Let me guess, are you seeing a fleet of ships entering the atmosphere?"

" _Yeah. I take it it's the same with you?"_

"Affirmative."

There was a moment of silence before J'onn spoke, "It's very likely that every city being used to store the weapons will also be strike points."

"Which could be countless at this point," Superman responded through clenched teeth. His eyes then narrowed. "And I'm willing to bet that who's ever on _that_ ship is leading the invasion."

The Martian didn't have to ask which ship his comrade was referring to. It was obvious from where he stood. Though all of the spaceships were large in size, there was one that dwarfed them all. Gargantuan was the word that came to mind. Whereas most of the ships were elongated, this one was dome-shaped, rounded at its top and flat at the bottom.

And as J'onn continued to open his telepathic pathways, he found himself focusing on that ship especially. There was someone on that ship with incredible power. He resisted probing further for fear that he would draw its attention to them. This person was not someone to trifle with.

A gust of wind brushed by the Martian then, a red-and-blue blur shooting up into the sky as it headed for the invading ships. Yet, J'onn remained where he stood, his cape waving about from the Kryptonian-made breeze. He understood Superman anxiety all too well and wanting to rid his home planet of the menace immediately was a powerful urge to suppress at the best of times. Regardless, that's what J'onn did at this time; there was something he had to do.

"You can come out now," he called out.

He sensed a hint of surprise before he felt nothing. The sound of footsteps echoed out until they stopped somewhere behind him. Turning around, the Martian found another alien resembling Frenzay, from the same color of skin to the fin on his head. His clothes differed, but that was hardly worth further analysis. His face, on the other hand, was much more expressive than Frenzay's.

"You do live up to your reputation," the Kalanorian said then. "I was startled when Frenzay disappeared from the psychic plain, but it would seem you were the reason for that."

"I take it you are one of his comrades," J'onn prodded.

"Indeed. I am Angash, the one who will end you."

Suddenly, a psychic force struck the Martian, drilling into his mind with no regard for finesse. It was blunt force, an attempt to quickly defeat him. J'onn hadn't felt something like that in quite some time, the sudden strike catching him off guard for a moment. However, this intrusion was sloppy and hastily done, telling him this telepath was hoping to overwhelm him with a surprise attack.

Such a tactic would not work on him.

Eyes glowing orange, J'onn strengthened his defenses and shoved the invading force away with ease. There was a second and third attempt in rapid succession, but neither progressed as far as the first. In fact, their effectiveness lessened with each strike. However, there were only so many intrusions that could be tolerated and having reached his limit, J'onn lashed out, sending a wave of psychic force back down the attacking link.

Angash's head jerked backwards an instant later, his face twisting with pain as he took a step backwards, his hands shooting up to cradle his skull. It took him a moment before he returned his gaze to J'onn, a scowl forming on his face. "You will pay for that transgression," he threatened lowly

"I'd advise against rash action, but it would seem to be of no use," J'onn replied. "A conflict seems inevitable."

A wicked smirk appeared on Angash's face. "Quite inevitable," he agreed. Then he charged.

* * *

Hawkgirl stared down at the streets of Gotham, her wings keeping her in the air. It was rather fascinating to watch the red streak that was the Flash darting down each and every street, crossing intersections in different directions, though making sure to thoroughly search every last inch of the city. She was familiar enough with this city's reputation of crime and wasn't taking the chance that any possible plasma rifle stash was only in the warehouse district.

Good thing Flash could check everything in a matter of seconds.

" _You know, I never thought I'd have to come back to Gotham after last time,"_ the red-clad man remarked over the comm link.

"And what gave you that impression?" Hawkgirl deadpanned. She honestly wasn't in the mood to talk, but when one worked with the Flash, it was pretty much expected that you would have to converse with him. There hadn't been a silence he met that he didn't prefer having words interrupting it.

" _Well, never had any reason to come here and—pardon me—there was the whole Batman thing—'cuse me, folks. He didn't say anything, but you got this impression—watch it there, buddy, left lane for passing—he didn't want any of us here."_

"You're just imagining things," the winged woman responded briskly. "Remember all those mobster murders he was being accused of? Superman was considering intervening had Zatanna not persuade him not to. Hell, we all were in favor of coming down."

" _Good point."_

"So, find anything yet?"

" _Oh baby, have I. Nothing as large as the stashes in Metropolis, but a lot of smaller ones. They're all over the city. Makes you wonder how Bats didn't spot them earlier."_

Now that was a loaded question, though Hawkgirl had a suspicion as to why this was. Considering Superman and the others had found the vigilante in Europe of all places, that made the redhead think that his attention was not on Gotham as much as he claimed. She hadn't been keeping up with the vigilante's escapades since other, more important matters had cropped up _—_ world-saving matters to be exact. It seemed she was going to have to do a little investigating to find out what was consuming so much of the Dark Knight's time.

Almost as if that were a cue, a familiar roaring sound reached the Thanagarian's ears. Head perking up, Hawkgirl searched for the source, spotting the approaching Batwing a few seconds later. It seemed they riled up one of the locals.

"Flash, we have company," Hawkgirl warned into the comm link as she began to hover in place. A moment later, the flying wing rushed passed her, the winged woman turning in midair to watch it. She saw the jet make a U-turn and begin approaching her again, this time slowing down until it came to a stop in front of her, hovering much like it had in Metropolis.

Spotting the cockpit canopy opening, the Thanagarian glided over to the plane, lightly touching down right next to the cockpit. She even knelt down so that she was closer to a very irritated-looking Batman. Surprisingly, the engine's roar died down to a quieter hum; that was the only reason she was able to hear him bark, "What the hell are you two doing here?"

"Following up a lead from the Metropolis investigation," she answered him, speaking in a normal tone. Seeing no point in keeping this guy in the dark about what they were doing, she continued, "We're checking all port cities and metropolitan areas for Frenzay and his friends. Flash has already found several small stashes across Gotham."

The only reaction she saw from the man was the tightening of his hands on the joystick. Clearly he didn't like being told this.

It was also further proof that he was distracted by something other than protecting his city. A part of Hawkgirl couldn't wait to figure out what it was, the detective in her desiring to solve this mystery. That would have to wait until they were finished with the current case though.

" _Hey, you two going to keep the talk between you or can I join in?"_

The Thanagarian resisted the urge to roll her eyes before she said, "Land somewhere, will ya? I'd rather not keep Flash out of this."

For several moments, Batman stared at the winged woman, who stared back unamused. If he thought a blank stare would intimidate her, he was sorely mistaken. Eventually, the Batwing began to drop altitude, a gentle sense of falling filling the woman, who largely ignored it. However, the vigilante didn't land his plane so much as brought it down to hover next to the roof of one of the skyscrapers. Flash must've seen this as a red streak raced up the side of said building until the young man appeared right at the roof's edge.

"Heya, Bats, long time no see," he greeted the other man.

"Where are these weapon stashes?" Batman demanded in return.

Flash, to his credit, wasn't put off by this. "All over, man. We're talking small ones too, nothing like the large stashes we found all over Metropolis. If I had to say anything, it'd be they were trying to limit the size of the stockpiles so they'd go unnoticed."

"What about the Industrial Area? Any in the warehouses there?"

"A couple larger ones, yeah, but they were maybe half the size as the ones in Metropolis. I'm being very generous about that too."

Hawkgirl closely watched Batman's reaction to this news. He wasn't clutching his joystick any harder, though his body seemed to grow more stiff with every passing second. He was definitely trying to suppress his anger, that much was certain, and he was doing a decent job of it.

Seeing as Batman continued to remain silent, Flash leaned his head back as he began to stretch. It was a gesture of boredom to be sure, but it stopped being that when his body stiffened and his eyes widened with astonishment. Catching sight of this out of the corner of her eye, Hawkgirl frowned as she looked to her comrade before she found herself looking up as well, a similar reaction appearing on her face. Incredibly large ships were descending from the sky, growing larger with every second. The redhead's stomach dropped not only at the size, but the sheer number of them.

"I think we have a situation here," Flash said after some time.

"No kidding," Hawkgirl replied before reaching a hand to her comm link. "Justice League, this is Hawkgirl. There's a situation in Gotham."

The Thanagarian expected to hear a response quickly, but a feeling of dread began to fill her as seconds passed without a reply. There were only so many reasons why no one answered her and none of them were good. Her worst fears were confirmed when Green Lantern finally answered, " _This is Lantern. The same thing is happening in Gateway and Metropolis too. Hundreds of space ships invading the atmosphere, right?"_

"Oh, this just keeps getting better and better," Flash said, his tone clearly unhappy. "How come I get the feeling we shouldn't be expecting the Calvary?"

As if to confirm what the red-clad hero said, John continued, " _Defend your city until help comes. Lantern, out."_

Which meant Flash was right that reinforcements weren't coming for a very long time—that was totally unacceptable. But what choice did they have? "Flash, looks like we're on our own," she sighed in resignation.

"Just great. It's Independence Day and we don't even have Will Smith around for backup," the red-clad man groused.

Suddenly, the canopy to Batman's jet slid shut and the plane began to raise up in the air. Startled, Hawkgirl jumped backwards and off the wing, her wings flapping once so that she floated near Flash. The engine then roared to life and Batman took off towards the ships.

"Correction, us and the Bat are on our own," Flash commented.


	9. Someone Will Be Hurting

"Nightwing, I'd ask you to pinch me, but I get the feeling it'd hurt too much," Robin said, eyes locked in on the sky above.

Nightwing couldn't agree more. He had been expecting big, life changing, nothing-will-ever-be-the-same times to happen. Had gone through those before. None of them ever factored in what looked like a trailer for that new Independence Day movie—and not a good one either.

Crouched atop of a building, that's exactly what the vigilante saw and he was damn sure out of his depth on this one. Everyone in Gotham was because if Hollywood was right about anything, it's that the aliens always had bigger, badder, destructive as Hell weapons that could blow up any and all national monuments. Suddenly he knew why the Batclan stayed far away from Gotham's iconic statues and buildings.

"You know, when we got all of our new toys, I had the feeling Batman was holding out on us," Nightwing finally responded after he managed to swallow his shock. Seeing Robin look to him out of the corner of his eye, the older man continued, "He didn't give us a batarang big enough to blow up whatever the hell those things are."

"I gotta agree there, but I kinda think there isn't a Bat-gadget around that could make a dent in one of those UFOs, much less take it down," Robin countered.

Then, as if to refute the younger man's reply, a growing, mechanical shriek rang throughout the air. The next either of them, a bat-shaped plane flew over them, the deafening roar it making their ears ring. Eyes locked in on the jet, they watched it fly right towards the ships.

"So, did you know he had a plane?" Robin asked after awhile.

"No clue," Nightwing responded. "But what did I tell you? He was holding back on us."

There was a moment of silence before the younger man muttered, "There's just no pleasing some people."

The dark-haired man ignored the comment. As he had admitted earlier, they were out of their depth on this one. They couldn't fly, didn't have the weaponry necessary to take on those alien ships, and were pretty much on the south side of useless—again. Nightwing was really getting tired of this pattern.

So, of course, an explosion down the street had to get his attention.

Snapping his head down, the young man looked to the streets and spotted what was best described as an army of dirt bags and scum. The matching clothes and color-coordinated outfits told him they were gang members. The oversized rifles they carried said something else entirely, especially when they were fired. Beams of yellow light burned through the air and exploded on cars and buildings. Even the fire hydrants weren't spared as they were disintegrated, a spout of water exploding high into the air.

However, if Nightwing and Robin couldn't handle spaceships, they could most certainly take on gun-wielding gangbangers. Heavily armed gangbangers—perhaps even military grade goons—but they were a more welcomed sight at this point.

"So Robin, what do you think the odds are that we can take 'em?" Nightwing asked.

"Between the two of us without backup, a third partner, or even what's left of the Birds of Prey?" Robin responded. "I wouldn't take those odds if you paid me to."

"Yeah, that's kinda what I thought." A grin appeared on the older man's face. "But then, that's always our odds."

"Whoever takes out the most gets dinner on the loser?" Robin inquired, a sly smirk appearing on his face.

Nightwing returned the look. "Steak, medium rare, with all the fixings, brat."

Reaching to his belt, the vigilante pulled out a few batarangs before leaping off the building. Already he was eyeing a lamp post far below, one he planned to grab onto and vault himself deep into the heart of the mob. As he sent the batarangs flying, he couldn't help but feel excitement race throughout his body, saturating his every nerve with adrenaline.

It was time to kick some ass.

* * *

John skimmed over the water, flying over it as he ventured further out to sea. Keeping his eye on the space cruisers above him, he bided his time until he found a target worthy of taking on.

He knew the one he wanted the moment he saw it. It was one of the lower orbiting ones, much higher in the air than he was, so it didn't notice the green-glowing man flying below it. Changing his trajectory, John flew straight up towards it, raising his ring-wielding hand up. Focusing his will, a curvy light emerged from the ring before it solidified into a long blade. Eyeing the ship he was approaching, a sense of inadequacy filled him. He was going to need a much, _much_ larger weapon.

Drawing his arm back, he fueled more will, the blade enlarging ten...no, fifteen times its size. There, this should do it. As he drew closer to the ship, he let out a war cry and swung the gigantic sword upward. Flying up parallel to it, John pulled his weapon up from the bottom to the top of the spaceship, slicing neatly in half. Immediately, the two pieces broke away from each other, an explosion erupting out of either separated side. Dropping from the sky, the two fiery pieces fell into the sea below, a large tidal wave erupting from the splash zone and spreading out in all directions.

Continuing his upward flight, John maneuvered towards another ship, though this time he came up towards the backside of it. Drawing his arm, and subsequently his giant sword, back, he swung it upward again, cutting straight through the ship again, only this time the exhaust ports for the ship's propulsion was separated for the body. Instantly, the rest of the cruiser descended down to the watery depths below.

Spotting movement out of the corner of his eye, John let his construct fade away as he turned his head, soon seeing Diana flying right for another ship. Heading for the front, she reached the bottom side of the space cruiser's nose and pressed her hands against it. Using her deity-granted strength, she pushed as hard as she could against the ship. This had the effect of the ship tilting upward until it was perpendicular with the ocean below. The only reason it was still in mid air was the exhaust ports at the backside of the ship, giant fires blasting out of them.

Seeing an opportunity, John crossed his arm across his chest, fueling will into his ring once more. Quickly, he swung his arm out, a band of green energy blasting out from his ring as he did so, soaring through the air towards its target.

That turned out to be the exhaust port. The moment the energy reached it, it cleanly sliced it off, the fires dying out instantly. Consequently, the rest of the ship began falling from the sky, looking like the last moments of the Titanic. Seeing the spaceship wasn't a threat any longer, Diana took off towards another.

So, that was three down—only about a hundred left to go.

Unfortunately, that would take a long time, something John and the rest of the League were sorely lacking. They had three confirmed attacks with the rest of the world unaccounted for. That was unacceptable. Yet, it couldn't be helped.

Turning his sights to another ship, John revved up his ring again for attack when the bottom of the space cruiser opened up. Curiously, the Green Lantern watched this new development, his attitude souring when smaller ships began to descend.

Fighters.

Scowling, John pulled his ring hand back, keeping it at his side while he extended his other hand further out in front of it. Focusing his will, a green light descended below his backhand before extending outward. It took less than a second for the light to form a construct, that of a Gatling gun. Taking aim, he squeezed the trigger, unleashing a torrent of green energy bullets, a deafening roar filling the air.

Sweeping his construct back and forth, John mowed down the launched fighters, the smaller ships exploding right below the open hanger. Although he didn't destroy all of the fighters, he got enough of them to stop anymore from being deployed.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the only spaceship launching the fighters. Dozens more opened their hangers, a swarm of small ships flowing out. Damn it, this had gotten more complicated.

* * *

Angash's assault was two-fold. The initial charge was the obvious physical one; however, Angash lashed out with a psychic one, dividing J'onn's attention into both planes. It wasn't entirely unexpected, but it was distantly familiar. The Martian had to think back to an age long forgotten and largely unknown to Earth to recall such a tactic.

The pressure in his head was straining at best, but J'onn was able to repel it. A moment later the Martian jumped backwards, avoiding Angash's fist as it swept by harmlessly. Continuing to backpedal, J'onn avoided the purple alien's next few punches over and over.

Eventually he reached the edge of the wharf, causing J'onn to stand his ground. Yet, he would not be pushed back further. Altering his mass, his body became transparent. A second later, Angash's fist passed right through him, the alien's eyes widening with surprise as he lunged out over the water.

Instantly, J'onn returned his mass to normal, losing his transparency. One of his hands then bulked up, enlarging several sizes. Spinning around, J'onn extended his arm and slammed it into the side of Angash's head. The force of the blow sent the alien flying, his flight interrupted when he crashed right into the side of a dock sticking outward into the harbor. Wooden planks and beams snapped and shattered from the crash.

Returning his hand to its normal size, J'onn floated into the air, flying towards the ruined dock. As he drew closer, he spotted his opponent's form emerging from the wreckage, his legs wobbly as he used his hands to balance himself against the pieces of wood. Perhaps J'onn had used too much strength when he had hit him.

Finally on his feet, Angash raised a hand up and rubbed the back of it across his mouth, wiping away a trail of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Anger flashed through the man's eyes, though not an entirely unexpected reaction. The Martian could feel the hate coming from his foe.

"You call that a punch?" Angash spat out, spit flying out of his mouth. "I've felt stronger love taps than that."

"If that's how you feel," J'onn stoically replied, landing at the edge of the dock.

An explosion rang out, a bright light filling the sky. Jerking his head up, J'onn could see several of the invading ships on fire, dropping towards the ocean. It seemed Superman had begun his assault.

Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted inside J'onn's head, causing his body to flinch as he hissed. A stronger psychic attack had hit him with his guard down—and there was only one source for it. Forcing the telepathic strike out, the Martian returned his attention to Angash, only to receive a punch to his face. Surprised by the blow, J'onn jerked backward more from the suddenness of the blow rather than its force.

A second fist found itself into his abdomen a moment later, followed by Angash ramming the rest of his body into him. The alien's momentum forced the two off the dock, falling into the water below. J'onn felt the sea water wash over his body, submerging beneath the surface with Angash on top of him. His opponent's hand wrapped around his neck, attempting to strangle him.

J'onn soon felt his back touch down on the seafloor, his body sinking into the mud. The pressure on his neck increased with every passing second, the green-skinned man finding it harder and harder to breath. Focusing his eyes on the alien above him, seeing his face twisted with glee, air bubbles escaping out the corner of his open, teeth-clenched mouth. It seemed Angash was unconcerned with his own oxygen supply as long as he took the Martian out.

What a waste of effort.

Shifting his mass, J'onn thinned his neck to the point Angash's hands were clasping each other, much to his foe's surprise. His chest bulging, it suddenly erupted into an angry mass of tentacles, each one wrapping around Angash while simultaneously forcing the alien upward. Pouring more and more of his body into his lengthening tentacles, J'onn forced Angash up to the surface, ramming him into the support beams and into the underside of the dock. Those were minor obstacles as he continued to push his foe higher and higher into the air. Seeing pieces of the dock sinking towards him, J'onn forced the rest of his body and consciousness into the tentacles.

In an instant, J'onn's mind was at the tip of his tentacles, clutching tightly around Angash. Pulling them off his opponent, he forced the tips together, gathering his mass until his body began to form.

Raising his arms up above his head, J'onn swung them down, hammering them down on top of Angash the moment the rest of his body released its hold. The purple alien went streaking downward, crashing through what was left of the dock and causing it to collapse into the harbor waters.

Hovering in the air, J'onn kept his eyes on the murky depths. No doubt Angash was not finished just yet. As if to prove him correct, a small bubbles began bursting at the surface, leaving a trail that led to shore.

As expected, Angash exploded out of the water, gasping for air as he reached out with his arms to grab onto the edge. Pulling himself up, the alien laid his upper body on the wharf, resting there as J'onn descended through the air. Touching down next to the alien, the Martian coolly looked down on him. "I highly recommend that you surrender," he spoke.

Angash turned his head to glared at him. "I'd rather drink your blood from the dying husk of your corpse."

J'onn bowed his head. "I'm sorry you feel that way."

* * *

Arms crossed in front of her, Diana felt the blast collided with her bracers. As expected, the attack ricocheted off, flying off harmlessly. A moment later, one of the smaller ships sailed over her head.

The Amazon followed the attacking ship with her eyes, turning in midair as she did so. There was some serious power behind its weapons, her arms still tingling from the force of the blast. The fighter circled around before charging back towards her, this time not firing its guns. It puzzled the dark-haired woman as to why, though she received her answer a moment later. Gunning its engines, the ship charged at her, fully intent on ramming her. The only thing she was able to do was extend her arms out and "catch" the fighter—and by catch, she meant having it hit her and drive her backwards through the sky.

Teeth clenched, Diana let out a grunt as she did her best to get a hold of the small ship. No way would such a tactic defeat her. Calling upon her Goddess-given power, her hands began to twist the metal of the ship, giving her her a handhold on it. Pushing back with her flight power, she and the attacking ship slowed to a stop, the Amazon taking full control of their conflict as she hefted the flying vehicle above her head.

With a loud war cry, she then hurled the fighter through the air, watching it flip and spin out of control until it crashed into a passing ship, causing the both of them to explode against each other.

Unfortunately, she wasn't given much time to rest. Twin beams rushed by her head, alerting the Amazon to another attacking ship. Shooting her arms up, she knocked away another shot with the use of her right bracer, sending the blast into another aircraft, blowing it up on contact. Her left arm mimicked her right, also redirecting a beam into another fighter. With her right, she brought it down until it was laying horizontal in front of her, again bouncing the blast away, but this time sending it right back at her attacker. It was to muted satisfaction that she watched the ship explode.

All of this took place within a matter of moments. Thank Hera for her heightened reflexes. However, this was getting her nowhere. No matter how many of theses smaller ships she defeated, there were twenty more sweeping into the city behind her, unleashing Tartarus on the innocent people there. Yet, the more she stopped here, the less there would be to attack Gateway City.

Eyeing one of the larger ships, Diana couldn't help but notice its bottom was beginning to open, most likely to release even more fighter ships. Not if she could help it. Taking off, Diana rushed through the air until she reached the opening hanger doors. Getting in front of one of them, she held her hands out until she felt the door press against her palms. Summoning her strength, the Amazon pushed back, the sound of grinding gears shrilly echoing into her ears.

Against her superior strength, the door soon gave out, the opening mechanism breaking against the strain it was under. Pulling back, Diana wanted to make sure there would be no way to completely open this hanger. Drifting to where the hinges were, the dark-haired woman pulled a fist back before she slammed it against the hinge. It cratered against her knuckles, causing the metal around it to dent and crumple.

However, she wasn't finished just yet. Quickly flying to the other opening door, Diana tossed away any thought of slowing it down, opting to ram her shoulder dead center against it. Like the hinge, a massive area cratered inward, effectively stopping its movement. At the very least, she limited some of the enemy's forces, if only for a short amount of time. Hopefully they ended this invasion before it could be corrected.

Diana frowned at that thought. Why did she want to stop this? It wasn't in Man's World's best interest not to be conquered, right? Eyes widening, the Amazonian Princess shook her head.

Where had that thought come from? She hadn't had a thought like that since she first left Themyscira. Since then, she realized a solution like that was oversimplifying the ills of Man's World, not to mention it would only cause the people to unify against the aggressor who tried to do so. Yet, there was no one like Despero and resistance was futile against—

A beam suddenly slammed into the side of Diana's head, causing her head to snap to a side as she began to drop from the sky. Face twisted from pain, the dark-haired woman quickly recovered as she focused her eyes on her surprised attacker.

As she searched and found the attacking fighter ship, Diana was partial thankful for the blow to the head. Someone was playing with her thoughts, she was sure of it now. She could feel the wrongness of those thoughts, ones she would have never entertained. Pulling out her lasso, she began to twirl it at her side.

As one of the fighters approached her, Diana sent her lasso flying, the loop wrapping around the aircraft and tightening an instant later. Moving out of its flight path, the Amazon tightened her grip on the rope, feeling it go taut in her grasp. Pulling her lasso to a side as she began to spin in place, Diana used the ship's speed against it, turning its momentum into circular acceleration.

Spinning, once, twice, three times, the Amazon forced her captive ship to crash right into a passing fighter, causing them both to explode. With her lasso going slack in her hands, a flick of her wrist caused the rope to return towards her, the dark-haired woman catching it and with practiced ease coiling it into its familiar loops. Returning it to its spot at her hip, Diana began her search for another target.

She found it sooner than expected. Blasting out green energy instead of the familiar yellow, Diana began her charge.

* * *

Racing through the sky, Superman held both of his fist in front of him, his cape whipping in a frenzy behind him. Heading right for one of the carriers, he plowed right into the hull, tearing right through it like paper. Metal ripped and squealed around him as he destroyed floor after floor until he burst out the opposite side of the ship. Making a u-turn, he plunged right into the ship again, ripping another hole through it.

Over and over, Superman entered and exited the large spaceship until it looked more like a floating piece of Swiss cheese. The only difference was the smoke pouring out of each of the holes, the spaceship ultimately giving in and plunging into the sea below.

Noticing two of the ships relatively close to each other, the Kryptonian sped towards one of them. Arriving at its nose, Superman extended his arms in front of him and slammed his palms onto the hull. Instantly, the ship gave into his force and swung to a side, running right into the side of its neighboring carrier. A giant fireball erupted from the collision site, the heat of it reaching the Kryptonian in no time.

Pulling away, the dark-haired man began to rise higher into the air, turning his attention to the other arriving ships. Though he should have expected it, he was disappointed to see several of the large spaceships began to launch fighter ships from their underbellies. He already had a lot of work repelling the bigger ones, he didn't need countless smaller ones to deal with as well.

Sucking in air, Superman felt his lungs expand until he could not hold his breath any longer. Seeing an approaching swarm of fighters, the Kryptonian pursed his lips and blew the air out. A gale-like wind fired out and slammed into the ships, the force of the wind literally stopping them in their paths.

However, that wasn't all that happened. Slowly, he could see ice begin to form on the ships' frames, the ice creeping around the fighters until they were completely encased. As he became breathless, the dark-haired man stopped his blow, breathing deeply through his nose as he watched the small spaceships fall from the sky.

It seemed that got someone's attention on the larger ships. The flow of the fighters came to a stop, something that relieved the Man of Steel. That all changed when large energy beams were fired by the large spaceships. It was like watching a wave of bright yellow lights approaching him, most of which missed him.

For the ones that hit him, however, pain ripped through the Kryptonian's body, causing him to cry out as he was flung backwards through the air. Steeling himself, Superman quickly recovered as he stopped his unintended flight, pushing away the strange, painful sensation. Those energy cannons on those spaceships packed a serious punch, something he hadn't been expecting.

The sound of explosions ringing out caught his attention then. Turning his head around, Superman was stricken with horror as he saw the other yellow beams collide with Metropolis, destroying whatever they touched. Fire and smoke leapt into the sky as debris went flying in all directions.

Damn it, no! Jerking his bed back to the spaceships, anger appeared on his face. Even as more energy beams rushed towards him, Superman was not going to let there be a constant barrage of these blasts. Eyes turning red, the Kryptonian looked to his left and fired his heat vision, moving them to his right as he turned his head. The red beams sliced cleanly through whatever they touched, that being the large space carriers. Explosion after explosion rang out as pieces of the ships flew out in every which way, gravity eventually pushing them downward to the sea.

Spinning his body around in a circle, Superman kept up with his heat vision, cutting apart ship after ship. He lost count of how many were destroyed, but at this point he didn't care. As unfortunate as it was, if someone were going to be hurt, he'd pick the aliens over even one of his people.

Once he decided to stop with the heat vision, the world around him changing from solely red to the rest of the color spectrum, Superman got a good look at the destruction he had caused. He watched grimly as spaceships burst into flames, or fell into pieces of debris. It wasn't a sight he took pleasure in.

However, his attack had removed many of the lower hovering ships, leaving many more higher in the sky. As he looked up, his eyes caught sight of an enormous ship, one that made many of the already large spaceships insignificant. If he was a betting man—and he wasn't thanks to Pa Kent—he'd say the leader of this invasion was on that colossal ship. Flying up, Superman closed in on the spaceship, continuing until he was hovering level with its top.

As it turned out, he was right. The moment he could see the top, he saw a hoard of aliens standing on the ship's deck. They were all shades of purple and pink, distinct fins sticking up from their heads. However, all of Superman's attention went to the hulking alien that dwarfed them, much like this spaceship did to the other vessels. One glance at the crowd told the Kryptonian that there was deference to this large alien.

"Come," the bulky Kalanorian beckoned, holding out a hand as a blue cloak billowed about his frame. As if he were compelled to, Superman drifted closer until he was mere feet away.

Seeing as this alien wished to talk, Superman was not a man to let such an opportunity go. "I don't know why you're invading this planet, but leave," he called out calmly. "There's too many people that can get hurt from this."

The alien ignored his words. "It has been a long time since I encountered a warrior of your caliber," he spoke, his voice unwavering, if not unemotional. It actually reminded the Kryptonian of J'onn's stoicism. "That you dispatched as many of my fleet as you have is commendable; yet, it is for naught."

The Man of Steel narrowed his eyes. "You don't mean to continue this, do you?"

In answer, the alien held his head higher. "Despero bows to no man."

 _Despero._ That was the name Frenzay had mentioned right before he died. So this was him. Already Superman could picture one of a hundred power-mad dictators and villains that could have replaced this Despero and not a one of them would stop their conquest if given the choice. It seemed Superman would have to end it with his own hands.

As if to prove his words, Despero raised a hand and grabbed his cloak, pulling it off to reveal his pinkish skin and hardened muscle. He cast the cloth away, which one of his entourage snatched as it floated to him. "I have traveled too long and too far to leave, not while a man presents a worthy challenge," the Kalanorian proclaimed.

"This is your last chance," Superman warned him. "No one else has to get hurt."

"Someone will be hurting," Despero retorted. "And that someone will be you."


	10. Superman vs Despero

Dark everywhere. Sounds from bats on roof. Cold.

Button for lights, push. Humming sound filling cave. Slow, lights come on. Base of Batman able to see.

She walk down stairs. No sound from feet. To big computer. Light coming from computer. Showing picture, not sure what it is. Shapes with different color dots blinking. Not sure what mean.

At computer. Not sure what to do. She saw one button blinking like dots on keyboard. She push button. Different picture showing, had people moving around. Light beams coming from guns, making fire and...and killing.

Hands become fists. Something wrong in city. Very, very wrong. Batman needed. Must be out there. Had to be. Why he not in picture? She sensed something wrong, not right. Batman leave in plane long time ago.

Something inside, calling to her. Do something. Fight. Kill. No, no kill. Protect. Protect like Batman. Batman not kill.

Something inside change. Feel different. Feel strange. Not sure what, why. Do not think. Think later, only do.

But not like is. Change. Look different. Teacher show uniform once. To be hers. That no longer. But...Batman? Yes, look like bat. Already in black, good. Need weapons, no killing weapons. Base have them here. And mask. Cover face like Batman. Thoughts feel right. Yes, much better than killing ones.

She look from computer. Stop. Car. Can't look away. She...might...could...use car.

Yes, use car.

* * *

The problem with hitting spaceships was that they were high in the air while he wasn't. Not being able to fly really sucked in cases like this. Hell, even Bats had a jet he could use and he didn't have powers at all!

Yeah, it was times like this Flash felt rather useless. Still, if there was one thing he could do, it was improvise. And seeing how the space fleet was flying over water, that at least gave him an idea.

Racing towards Gotham Harbor, the red-clad man was soon running on water, splashing up water to either side of him and leaving a disturbed trail in his wake. Repeatedly glancing upwards, Flash kept an eye on the slowly descending ships, gauging just where they were.

When he was almost certain he was underneath one of the UFOs, Flash changed course, beginning to run around in a circle. Lap after lap he ran, swirling the water until it began to rise up into the air. A few seconds later and a column of water shot skyward, just as he intended, forming a growing water spout.

And just like he wanted, the water spout rammed right into the underbelly of the spaceship. The force of the collision pushed the ship upwards, tilting it at an angle. Unfortunately, that was the only positive result he saw, something that disappointed him a bit. Even now the ship was moving backwards, removing itself from the column of water.

Soon, droplets of water began raining down around him, the result of the sea water ricocheting off the hull of the spaceship. God, this was proving to be worthless, but what else could he do?

It seemed the universe decided to answer his self-pitying question. A nearby spaceship began to open its bottom, revealing its inner workings, not that Flash could tell just what those were. Still, it provided a very tempting target. Edging his circular path towards the ship, the waterspout moved with him until reached it, sending the torrent of water inside.

It seemed his timing was spot on too. What looked like smaller spaceships had begun dropping out of what must be a hanger. The moment his water spout began filling the hanger with water, the fighter ships were caught in the vortex. The next thing the Flash knew, those small ships were firing wildly out of the hanger/waterspout, many of them spinning through the air until they collided with the sea around the speedster, or even better crashed into the side of one of the larger ships.

Ah hah! Now he was doing some good!

And as luck would have it, more of the fighters were being released from the other larger ships—they must've been carriers instead of destroyers, he thought. That meant the smaller ships were the threat, not the big ones. Once again moving his waterspout, he made for the fighter ships, sweeping them out of the sky as the vortex of water slammed into them. Seeing the spacecrafts being flung in every which direction, Flash felt grim satisfaction. Every little bit was going to help here and the more of these guys he took out, the better off the world would be.

Hopefully he didn't hurt too many of these guys though. Well, maybe a little hurt. A few bumps wouldn't kill anyone.

* * *

The man before him was no Earthling. Earthlings could not fly nor demonstrated the power to wreck entire battleships of the Kalanorian fleet, not in the manner that this man had. Curiosity more than anything caused Despero to reach out along telepathic paths to learn about this foe; surprisingly, there were no defenses to stop him, something he was not unaccustomed to, but had expected from seasoned warriors. It was because of this he was able to quickly read the man's thoughts.

 _Krypton._

Now there was a word he had not heard of in some time, not since the planet and its inhabitants destroyed themselves. To think one of its denizens had fled here. Most interesting.

It was because of these thought that Despero nearly missed the initial charge. The Kryptonian rushed at him with incredible speed. Were Despero's mental faculties not as refined as they were, he would have never noticed the red-and-blue blur that sped towards him. Regardless, he was unable to defend himself as this man—this "Superman," his mind told him—slammed his extended fists right into his chest.

The force of the blow seemed to shake the planet, or so the Kalanorian thought. Finding his feet picked off of the deck, he flew a considerable distance, his followers diving out of his way until he finally touched down again. Physical pain sent jolts throughout his entire body, an unfamiliar and joyless feeling.

Superman drew back one of his fists then before ramming it back into his chest again, sending another wave of pain through him. Grunting, Despero felt each and every punch hit him as his opponent railed against his tough hide. Gritting his teeth, the Kalanorian raised both of his hands up, clasping them together before he swung them down, jackhammering the Kryptonian on his back and sending him crashing down onto the deck with a loud _BANG!_ Metal dented and cracked from the impact, his foe seeming dazed from the hit.

Raising up a leg, Despero made to stomp on Superman's back. The Kryptonian, however, was quick to recover and rolled out of the way, Despero's foot creating an even bigger crater right where the man had laid.

The moment Superman was back on his feet, he became the multicolored blur again; the next thing Despero felt was a fist colliding with his chin, his head snapping backwards as a result. A moment later and another blow rammed into a face, knocking him back a step.

Though this was unpleasant, Despero could feel his blood scream, coming alight with excitement. It had been a very long time since someone had demonstrated such strength to rival his own. He was going to enjoy this, he could feel it. He just needed to return the favor.

Though his speed was not at the level of this Kryptonian, Despero reacted much quicker than his opponent expected—his thoughts shouted as much. With his much larger fist, the Kalanorian slammed it into Superman's face, stunning where he stood.

With a snarl, Despero charged forward, ramming a shoulder into Superman's body as his arms wrapped around him. Pounding his legs, he was soon running at top speed all the way to the edge of the ship. With one last step, he leaped off his ship, sending them soaring through the air.

As it so happened, one of his carrier ships happened to be descending right by them. Because of their momentum, the two crashed right into the side of the ship, bursting through its hull.

The moment Despero felt his feet touch the floor, he pushed Superman from him, holding him at arm's length away with one hand. With his other, he balled it into a fist and swung it, slamming it against the Kryptonian's face. His opponent sailed into the wall ahead of them, breaking through it.

Running, the Kalanorian kept up with his airborne foe, not finished with their fight. Lashing out, he rammed his fists over and over into the Kryptonian, attacking all weak points. Abdomen, face, chest, abdomen, chest, face—his blows rained down unrelenting. Each punch coincidentally kept Superman flying through the air, crashing and bursting through wall after wall, all the while Despero kept up his running pace to continue his onslaught. Countless walls fell before they finally reached the other side of the ship, exploding out into empty air.

With one last fist, Despero slammed it against Superman's face, snapping his head to a side as he went careening downward, landing on top of a cruiser ship. Letting the planet's gravity take power over him, the Kalanorian fell, the wind whipping at his body until he arrived at the new ship. Keeping his legs underneath him, he extended his feet as far as they could go, so that they rammed right into his fallen opponent, cratering the deck from the force of his landing.

Quickly spreading his feet to either side of the crater, Despero looked down in disappointment. Was this all the Kryptonian could take? Pitiful. He had expected—

Red light suddenly flashed and the next thing Despero knew, a hot red beam blasted into his abdomen, sending him flying straight up into the air. A startled cry escaped his mouth as he sailed upward. Eventually the blast faded away, leaving him to continue his skyward trek until he slowed at his peak.

And then Superman was there. With a fist drawn back, he then slammed it into Despero's face, altering his flight as he went flying once more. This time it was his turn to crash into one of his ships, this one being a destroyer considering all of the outer cannons on the deck. He landed on one of the gunstations, destroying it as the barrels twisted and snapped beneath his impenetrable skin. Again, Despero felt himself doing something he hadn't done in ages, grimacing from the soreness he felt.

His face scrunched, it took a moment for the pink-skinned alien to recover, opening his main eyes when he was able to. As it so happened, he saw Superman racing towards him, arms extended out in front of him as his cape whipped around behind him.

So, the Kryptonian could take a physical beating—promising. However, Despero was not one to willingly hand over the upper hand in a battle and this would be no different. Opening his third eye, he reached out with his mind, finding his opponent's to be unguarded still.

Perfect.

Mentally, he lashed out at his charging opponent, attacking him where he was most certainly vulnerable. Despero wasn't disappointed when Superman suddenly broke off his approaching, his body cringing backwards as he exposed his full torso to Despero. His momentum kept him flying towards the Kalanorian and he was not one to leave such an inviting target to go unattacked.

Forcing himself onto his feet, Despero let out a cry as he leaped up into the air. Bending an arm out in front of him, he began to drop just in time to intercept Superman. With his bent elbow, he rammed it down on top of the Kryptonian's shoulder, forcing him to crash down on the deck.

Landing a second later, Despero reached down and grabbed Superman's cape. Letting out another war cry, he pulled the cape upward, lifting the Kryptonian up into the air. Moving his arm to a side and then down, he swung Superman back down onto the deck, causing another _BANG!_ to ring out. Twisting his body, the Kalanorian then swung his foe up until they were both spinning in a circle, becoming a swirl of pink, red, and blue.

Finally, Despero let go of the piece of cloth he held, sending Superman flying into the ruined debris of the laser cannon, the man bursting through it and kept sailing until he began skidding across the deck, slowly coming to a stop.

Despero stared at his opponent for a moment before he began walking purposefully towards him. His heavy footsteps shook the ground, sure to alert the Kryptonian he approached. He wasn't wrong in that regard as he noticed Superman beginning to stir, shaking off the beating he had received. A trail of red liquid trickled from the corner of the man's mouth, along with the formation of what must be his species' form of bruising on his face. They were an interesting mix of blue and purple, colors he was not expecting to see. Aside from that, the man didn't look as if he were out of power or spirit.

Very promising.

Again, Despero reached out through his third eye towards the Kryptonian's mind. He wasn't going to read the man's mind or attack at his abysmal defenses; this time he was going to...what was the saying? Make himself at home? Oh yes, that was it.

A very fitting description.

* * *

To the left, the right, left again, Batman jerked the joystick all over as he maneuvered his plane. Shortly after he had taken toward the invading fleet, smaller space ships had been launched, creating an even more intense situation than he had hoped. He hadn't been entirely sure he had enough firepower to take down one of those behemoths, but he sure as hell was going to try.

That all changed within seconds.

Giving chase to one of the smaller ships, Batman closed the distance between him and it, though it wasn't all that easy. He had one of the best jet engines in the world flying his aircraft and he was still struggling to get a good lock. These aliens had much better technology it seemed, something he was not the least bit happy with.

A beeping sound filled the cockpit. Glancing down to the dashboard, he saw a small computer screen alerting him that he was almost within range of a missile lock. Shooting his eyes back up, he focused on the small fighter he was chasing, determined not to let it get away. Several seconds passed before the beeping began occurring in closer intervals until finally it was a solid sound.

With his thumb, he hit a small red button on the joystick. A moment later a missile shot out in front of him, racing towards the enemy spacecraft. Batman watched as the missile rapidly closed the distance between it and its target, reaching it, and detonating. An explosion blew out, fire enveloping the ship before it began falling from the sky.

That was one. Changing course, Batman spotted another fighter and gave chase, this one seemingly unaware of him as it was much easier to get a lock on this one. Another fired missile and the ship was shot out of the sky as well.

That was when a large column of swirling water swept in front of his vision. Surprised, Batman made sure to avoid the strange phenomenon, watching as it went directly after the spaceships, throwing the spacecrafts in all directions. Batman wasn't sure what was causing it, but he was grateful it was doing some good. Angling away from it, he soared to find another target.

As it so happened, he caught sight of Hawkgirl darting through the sky. With her mace in hand, she swooped and dove at the space fighters, destroying wings or engines that sent the ships plunging out of the sky. She was extremely effective as she attacked, gracefully flitting about on her feathered wings despite the brutal attacks she unleashed. Even through the canopy, he could hear her war cries echo through the air.

Suddenly, several beams raced by his plane from below, shaking him out of his distracting thoughts. Angling his aircraft, the vigilante discovered he had flown right over one of the larger ships, one that was currently firing its energy guns. Gritting his teeth, Batman jerked on the joystick and sent his vehicle into aerial maneuvers, dodging the fired shots.

Thankfully it didn't take long to escape the enemy's barrage, Batman locating one of the carrier ships and making his way to it. Taking cover behind it, he was given a moment's peace of not getting shot out of the sky. Savoring the moment, the dark-clad man composed himself and began searching out for other spaceships he could shoot down.

Unfortunately, he found them in a location not advantageous to him. The only reason he knew that was because smaller laser flew into view, their origin from somewhere behind him. Again he began to weave his plane from side to side, trying to make himself a harder target. He even went into a barrel roll, angling off to his right in an attempt to get them off his tail. No such luck.

Emerging out of the shadow of the carrier ship, Batman spotted the gunship from earlier and an idea came to him. It was a bit crazy, but he didn't see any other options at the moments. Angling his jet towards it, he soon saw the laser cannon fire again, only this time he was flying right towards them.

Breaking off his course at the last moment, he jerked the joystick to the left, his aircraft tilting to the side as it narrowly dodged the blast. Turning his head to look behind him, he saw the giant beam do exactly what he wanted as it blew away the fighter ships tailing him. Returning his sights in front of him, he then pressed the red button on the joystick, firing a missile blindly. Though it didn't have a lock on it, the rocket soared towards Batman's target, exploding on the deck of the gunship.

Peeling off, Batman moved out of the direct sight of the laser guns, looking to find something else to get into a dogfight with. Unfortunately, his luck decided to take a different turn.

Out of nowhere, his plane violently jerked to a side, alarming Batman as he gripped the joystick harder. Alarms began blaring throughout the cockpit, lights flashing all over the dashboard. Glancing to his left and then the right, he saw something had hit the right wing of the jet, smoke pour out of it. He wasn't sure what hit him, but the vigilante knew that it had hit the right stabilizer. Already he was drifting out of control no matter what he did with the joystick.

With a prolonged grunt, Batman pulled back on the stick as hard as he could, trying to regain some semblance of control. It seemed to work as he began arcing straight up into the air, maintaining the direction for several seconds.

And then the plane flipped, now making a descent towards the water below. Growling, Batman jerked the joystick from side to side, which somehow allowed him to level the aircraft out. Just one problem.

He was now flying straight towards one of the space carrier ships.

Considering he had a damaged vehicle that was getting harder and harder to maintain, it was either continue to fight to regain control and leave him open to one of the alien ships to finish the job, or do as much damage he could before bailing.

Steeling his face, he knew what his choice would be.

Holding his course, Batman watched as the large ship grew even bigger the closer he drew towards it. When he felt that that the plane wouldn't deviate from the target no matter which direction it chose to drift in, Batman began squeezing the red button on the joystick over and over. This resulted in the jet firing the rest of its payload, a barrage of missiles sailing through the air at the carrier ship.

Finally satisfied, Batman let go of the joystick and hit the eject button, his hands dropping to either side of his seat. Immediately, the canopy was blasted off, followed by his pilot's seat launching him upward and out of the cockpit. The g-forces assaulting his body made the vigilante grimace. Through cracked eyelids, he saw his missiles collide with the spaceship, exploding fireballs covering its sides. Moments later, his jet crashed headfirst into the damage side, causing an even bigger explosion to blast out.

Well, that was $73 million down the drain.

Now he just had to get out of this war zone in one piece. His ejector seat was beginning to slow down, so he was going to have to bail soon. Though it would have been smart to activate his glider cape and ease his way back to the city, he would be making himself a target for these aliens and there was no way they wouldn't take a shot at him.

At least, that was the way with his present location. If he could get under them, he would stand a better chance…

His chair finally reached its peak, hovering in midair for a moment. Quickly, Batman undid the safety harness and pushed himself off the seat, sending it tumbling away from him even as he began to drop through the sky. Angling his body to where he was falling head first, he pressed his arms into his sides to make himself as aerodynamic as possible.

Now he just needed to not get shot at.

* * *

"HAAAAAA!"

With a swing of her mace, Shayara slammed it into the wing of one of the fighter ships, snapping it right off. Turning her swing into a side sweep, the head of her weapon rammed into the side of the ship, the electricity from the Nth metal delivering additional damage. Pulling away, more electricity began to dance over the spaceship before it finally exploded into a burning fireball.

If Shayera was honest with herself—and she was usually brutally so—she felt right at home in this fight. Adrenaline awoken her warrior blood, the thrill of battle burning within her unlike any of the battles she had fought on this planet before.

Darting towards another fighter, she closed in on it quickly as she let out another war cry. Smashing her electrified mace on top of the ship, she knocked it right out of the sky, watching its damaged wreckage drop towards the ocean below.

 _Who's next?_ her mind screamed. _Who wants some more? C'mon!_

Another fighter ship answered her silent demand, flying at her head on. Twin blasters were fired, sending yellow energy beams at her. Smirking, Shayera dashed upward, dodging the lasers. Holding her mace above her head, hearing the crackle of electricity with her ears, she waited half a moment before she lurched downward, swinging her mace as she did so.

And as she timed it, her weapon collided on top of the attack spaceship, sending it spiraling out of control once it passed her. Sparing a glance behind her to make sure the ship was effectively out of the picture, the redhead woman turn her sights onto other prey.

Unfortunately, that prey got swallowed up as a hurricane swept by. Watching with disinterest, the Thanagarian glanced downward to see the red blur circling at the base of the water column. Well, that was a buzzkill, if only momentarily.

That was when a sharp whistling sound reached her ear, sounding all like an out of control plane on the verge of crashing. Searching for the source, Shayara quickly spotted Batman's jet rushing through the sky, a trail of black smoke following it. Watching it with alarm, the Thanagarian wondered what had happened when she noticed the plane was beginning to angle itself towards one of the larger space carriers.

So, Batman was attempting to get as much bang for buck as he could before pulling out. The winged woman wasn't all opposed to the choice. However, the longer she watched, the more alarm she was beginning to feel. Why hadn't the pilot ejected yet? Even from the distance he was at, he couldn't miss.

A partial answer came later when several missiles were launched. Again, Shayera found herself agreeing with the strategy to cause as much destruction as possible, but again she could feel worry building up. Why wasn't Batman ejecting? He had done all he could, so he needed to get out. _Eject you, pompous ass!_

Then, at long last, the canopy shot off and Batman rocked out of his jet, mere moments before his payload and plane exploded on the enemy ship. At last relief filled her.

Normally the Thanagarian would have turned to go looking for another opponent; it's what she would have done on Thanagar. However, something within Shayera made her keep watching Batman. There was something wrong here, her gut told her.

It turned out her instinct was right. Eyes widening, she watched as Batman began descending through the air headfirst, as if he were on some kamikaze run. _What the hell are you doing, you idiot?!_

Shayera had enough. Launching herself, she flew towards Batman's falling form, fully intent on snatching him and setting him out of danger. Unfortunately, two fighter ships decided to intervene, which only served to frustrate her.

Growling, the Thanagarian glided to a side as she dodged incoming gunfire, lashing out with her mace the moment she was within striking distance. She smashed her weapon on the side of one of the fighters, hearing the metal exterior shrilly bend. Using her momentum, she swooped upwards, clearing her of the second fighter's lasers. Diving down, the redhead swung the head of her mace through the air, landing it against a wing. The wing snapped off and sent the ship spinning out of control behind her.

Sure they were out of her hair, Shayera returned her attention to Batman, only to growl again as she saw the vigilante below her now. Angling after him, she gave chase, tucking her arms to her sides as the feathers of her wings constantly made adjustments to speed her up. From where she was, she could see the bottom of the dark-clad man's feet, his cape practically straight and wrinkle-free as it dragged behind him.

With the wind shrieking at her ears, the Thanagarian began closing the distance between them, slowly, but surely. It was fortunate they had a lot of air to cover before either one of them crashed into the sea below them.

Unfortunately, things just had to get complicated. Flash's hurricane drifted into view, running right into a carrier ship. It didn't destroy the ship, which was a good thing at the moment. It did, however, force the ship to turn to its right. As it so happened one of the gunships was right in its path.

And as it turned out, Shayera and Batman had the perfect view to see the noses of both ships collide with each other, the sound of metal tearing into metal ringing out. A short moment later, an explosion blasted out, ripping into the ships and sending fire and smoke straight up to the falling heroes.

Shayera scowled. _Oh, c'mon!_

Of course, Batman had to be aiming directly for the explosion. He didn't even try to angle himself away from it as he continued his descent. Dark smoke soon consumed him, making him vanish from sight.

 _What is this guy thinking?!_ Though everything in her told her to pull off, the winged woman was forced to ignore her instincts as she plunged into the cloud. The scent of smoke filled her nostrils, nearly making her gag. She could barely see a foot in front of her face, which was really bad since she was going at breakneck speeds at the moment.

Fortunately, she passed through the cloud in record time. Even better, she had closed the distance between her and Batman. Right now they were in what was best described as a fiery canyon formed by the two destroyed ships. Out of the corner of her eyes, the redhead woman could pick out different levels of the ships, a hive of square and rectangular rooms. Fires raged in each room, the separating walls, floors and ceilings looking as if they were hot, liquid metal. It all created an amazing visual the Thanagarian would admit later on.

Fortunately, there was no loose debris in their flight path so Shayera didn't have to worry about dodging anything. So she focused her energies to closing the gap between her and the suicidal vigilante. Even now she could tell they were about to reach maximum velocity and she highly doubted this guy's cape would make for a good enough parachute to withstand a sudden stop.

Like bullets they emerged out the other side of the burning ships, giving them a clear view of the sea below, along with a few other lower atmosphere ships. Steeling her face, Shayera kept willing herself closer to the falling man.

Closer.

Closer…

Angling herself, the winged woman finally reached Batman, barely brushing against his back. Throwing her arms out, she wrapped one over the top of his shoulder while the other closed against the side of his abdomen. She caught sight of the dark-clad man jerking his head to a side to look at her even as she spread her wings out as far as she could.

It was suicide to try to stop their descent especially at the speeds they were at. So instead of fighting them, Shayera used them, her feathers adjusting so that they began to slowly tilt upwards. Their view changed from blue waters to the coast of Gotham Harbor and eventually to the lights and buildings of the city itself. Soon, they were swooping through the air safely.

Shayera let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Despite the tense body she felt against hers, she was content in knowing she had bailed out an unwilling teammate.

Now what was she supposed to do with him?

* * *

A couple notes: the opening scene from Cassandra's POV was a little experiment to see if I could write from a very unusual perspective. That proved a little more difficult than I had thought, especially with someone with a very limited vocabulary. From that logic came the short, stunted sentences that were used.

The part where Despero is beating Superman through one of the ships while running at the same time is based off a movie special for Dragonball Z, Super Android 13, where said android did the same beating to Goku.


	11. Begin Reeducation

With another blast, John finished off the last of the fighter ships in his area, slicing the propulsion system off and sending the rest plunging towards the ocean. Now then, it was time to go back to taking out the larger ships. Revving up his ring, he began flying up into the air.

At least that was the plan; that all changed when the bottom of a red boot slammed into the side of his face.

Head snapping to a side, John could only see stars as it was his turn to go flying downwards, ultimately submerging below the water's surface as a big splash erupted where he had crashed. Thanks to the density of water, he slowed down sooner than he would had he hit land, allowing him to begin recovering. Shaking his head, the Lantern tried to puzzle out what had hit him. It had to be a person considering the boot sole he was positive of seeing. There was a flier up there with some serious strength.

Moving up, John exploded out of the water, trails of water moving down his body and trickling off. Searching the sky, he only found one person that could've hit him as hard as he had been, not to mention being in the same area to do so. His first thought was to disregard such an absurd notion, but considering the steely look he was receiving, he was quick to admit that perhaps he wasn't too far off the mark.

"Diana?" he questioned as he reached the Amazon's hovering point. "What's the big idea?"

"That's what I want to know," the dark-haired woman responded, arms at her sides with her hands balled into fists. "You're attacking our allies."

 _Allies?_ "What are you talking about?" John exclaimed with surprise. "These ships are invading Earth! Last time I checked, that doesn't make them friends."

Diana frowned. "They're not invading, can't you see? These are emissaries, here to contact the World's Leaders to inform them of a growing threat."

"Oh, a growing threat, right." John narrowed his eyes. Something was going on here. Where Diana got it into her head that these were the good guys was baffling. Hell, he had seen her doing her share of the work not too long ago, so what changed? Deciding to make his case, the Green Lantern pointed to Gateway City behind him and said, "And what do you make of that? Those ships are attacking Gateway!"

Diana glanced to the city before returning her eyes to him. "That's because of the weapons we found. There's a second force trying to attack Earth through infiltration and these ships are here to stop them."

 _Bull._ "Diana, I don't know where you got that ridiculous idea from, but right now innocent people are getting hurt. You need to get your head together, or we're going to let a lot of those people down."

"John, please, you have to stop."

"No, I don't." Flaring his green aura, the Green Lantern took off towards one of the invading ships, intent on continuing his job.

Unfortunately, when he felt Diana's hand latch onto one of his ankles with a vice-like grip, he knew it wasn't going to be that simple. "Diana, let—" he started to say as he looked down at her, only to be interrupted as she twisted her body to a side and swung him downwards. Letting out a surprised cry, John went sailing once more, only this time he stopped his flight as soon as he could, hovering above water rather than splashing into it.

"I'm sorry, John, but the only way to get to Lord Despero's ships is to get through me," Diana challenged, arms crossed over her chest.

Again, John narrowed his eyes. Despero was the name of the guy storing the weapons in the first place. Since when had Diana begun supporting him? If he had sensed something was afoot before, he knew it beyond a doubt now. "I'm sorry too," he replied then before he aimed his ring at her.

Firing a green beam, John watched it race towards the Amazon, who shot an arm up and knocked it away with her bracer. Shooting blast after blast, the Lantern kept up his barrage, only for Diana to ricochet each attack over and over. It wasn't until she bounced one back at him that he stopped, letting out a "Whoa!" as he jerked to a side.

This left him wide open to Diana charging him and slamming a fist against the side of his face. Again, John's head snapped to a side, spit flying from his mouth. Damn, he knew she was strong, but the power behind that punch was incredible!

He couldn't let her hit him again like that, so he did the first thing he could think of. Immediately pointing his ring at her, he fired out a green light, a boxing glove taking form and returning the favor, ramming into the Amazon's face and knocking her back. Drawing his arm back and subsequently his boxing glove construct, John swung it forward again, sending another punch to his opponent's head, landing the blow and knocking her further backwards.

John was prepared to send a third, but he held himself when he noticed Diana shook off his last blow, her body instantly shifting, albeit slightly, into a defensive posture. One moment she was dazed, the next she had stiffened her body, prepared for whatever he threw at her, it was that nuanced. So he held back, deciding another plea to her rational self was the better mood. "Diana, you're confused. Someone's playing with your head."

"No!" the Amazon shouted defiantly. "You are the one that's confused."

And then she went on the offensive. There wasn't nearly enough time to stop her, so the Green Lantern did the only thing he could, extending his arm out and reshaping his green boxing glove until it formed a medieval battle shield. An instant later the dark-haired woman rammed into it, her fist shattering the upper left corner of the construct. Eyes widening, he was only able to watch as Diana broke another chunk of it away with a second blow, lunging at him a moment later. Her fist slammed into his face, knocking him backwards and making him lose his concentration on his shield, causing it to vanish.

John was only able to get an eye on her right as the Amazon leaned forward, flipping her feet over head. Then with a downward swing, she dropped both of her heels right on top of his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending him back into the watery depths.

Thanks to the ring, John was able to recover, breathing despite being underwater. That was the biggest reason he was able to see Diana plunge into the salt water, on a collision course with him. Steeling his resolve, John called upon his ring, green metal plating appearing over his shoulders and chest. On his right shoulder, a bazooka cannon formed while an aiming sight appeared over his right eye. Targeting Diana, he fired a green rocket right at her, the Amazon taking it head on as she crossed her arms in front of her face, leading with her bracers.

The Diana he knew would have never taken on a bazooka missile like that. The reason for that was the moment the rocket reached her, it exploded, knocking her off course as she was thrown to a side. Though tougher than most, she didn't have the invulnerability of Superman, so she was more likely to dodge, or at least use her foe's attack against them.

But it was because of her toughness that he fired a few more missiles at her, watching them blow up all over her until she was hidden from view due to the air bubbles and displaced water. At this point, knocking the Amazon out was his best choice at ending this; asking her about her actions could be done at a later time.

Keeping his construct active, he waited for the explosive aftermath to dissipate, finding Diana's body floating still. Letting his construct fade, John aimed his ring at his comrade and fired a green beam, enveloping her in a green glow. Ascending, he took the both of them out of the water, floating just above the surface. Bringing her closer, the Green Lantern said, "Sorry, Diana, but I didn't have a choice."

Suddenly, her eyes snapped over. The next thing John knew, her knee embedded itself into his stomach, causing him to bend over it as he was again breathless and gasping for air. He didn't even have time to wonder how Diana was still conscious as she slipped around him, her legs wrapping around his waist while one of her arms went around his neck. Pulling his head back, she gripped the bicep of her other arm while her hand pressed against the back of his head. "I'm sorry about this too, John," she apologize as she put pressure on him through her sleeper hold.

Unable to breath, unable to concentrate, John found himself slipping into darkness.

* * *

Nightwing was a blur of motion, lashing out with his electrified escrima sticks. Over and over, he pummeled the man in front of him with the glowing ends, tasering him with every blow until he dropped to the ground a quivering mass of slobber and twitching body parts.

Feeling a presence behind him, the young man leaped into the air as he spun, extending a leg out so that the heel of his foot collided with the side of a man's skull, snapping his head to a side as he went into a spin before falling to the floor.

Though these guys had some really high tech guns, it seemed none of them were really willing to use them in close quarters, something Nightwing was taking full advantage of. Always keeping himself next to another body kept him from getting shot at with lasers and he was more than happy to keep that status quo.

Spotting someone with their back to him, Nightwing took off running at them, shooting a foot out at the last moment to kick the back of the man's knee. As the man cried out, leg buckling as he dropped to a knee, the vigilante used his raised his other foot and stomped it down hard on the guy's back. Using the man as a springboard, he pushed off, launching himself into the air as he did a backflip. As his legs swung down, Nightwing raised his escrima sticks above his head, holding them there until he touched down in front another goon.

The instant he landed, he swung the sticks down, slamming them against the man's shoulders, and causing something to snap if his ears heard right. As the guy gave out a high-pitched cry, he dropped to the ground, grasping at his shoulders as he squirmed and writhed from pain. Seeing another two goons just a couple steps from his now-finished opponent, Nightwing leaped forward, crouching down as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. This had the result of the ends of his escrima sticks jabbing into the sides of his two new targets. They both let out screams, their knees buckling from the shock. To finish them off, Nightwing shot up to his full height while uncrossing his arms. This time his weapons slammed into the side of the men's heads, knocking them out before they collapsed into heaps.

Oh yeah, he was really getting the hang of this fighting stuff.

Suddenly, Robin was at his side, his breathing a little on the heavy side. He was getting tired, not that Nightwing blamed him. "Hey, is this place looking a little familiar to you?" the younger man asked.

"Not particularly," Nightwing replied as he raised his escrima sticks higher. "Kinda fighting for my life at the moment."

"Same here. Correct me if I'm wrong though, but isn't this place close to Barbara's rehab?"

Darting his eyes from left to right, Nightwing had to stifle a curse that was working its way up his throat. Trust Robin to actually mind his surroundings. They were easily a block to their friend's place and knowing their luck, this street brawl was going to hit the rehab center and do a lot of damage.

Goddamn it.

"Okay, new plan: we get to Barb and make sure she's safe," the older man said. "I know she can take care of herself and all—"

"But even she would need a tiny bit of help with guys with laser guns," Robin finished for him. There was a silence before he added, "I kinda feel sorry for anyone that does decide to take her on."

"No kidding. I think we'd be saving them from her."

Sharing smirks, the two vigilantes launched themselves forward, throwing blows as they began the long trek to Barbara.

* * *

A black wall was all that stood before him. With mighty hands, Despero pierced the wall with his fingers and pulled his arms apart, tearing open a hole. Reaching his full wingspan, the Kalanorian stepped forward into a world of color.

Before him stretched out a land covered with thin green plants, yellow heads emerging from them. Despero had never seen such plants before, but if the thoughts he was receiving were correct, they were called corn stalks. These corn stalks stretched out towards the horizon in all directions.

However, looking further ahead, he could see towering buildings, the likes of which hadn't been seen in decades. It was a strange dichotomy of agriculture and technology, but then the Kryptonian was split this way.

Eyes glancing from side to side, his eyes soon found what he sought. Standing among the corn plants was a man that looked just like Superman, but he wore different clothing. "Overalls and a T-shirt," he was informed. The clothes were dirtied with grime, most likely from field work.

Stepping forward, Despero entered the field of corn, the plants coming up to his knees. With heavy footsteps that sank into wet dirt, he trampled over the corn as he approached this different Superman, the avatar of his mind. The man stood waist deep in the plants, but not once did he flee for his life.

"Is there something I can help you with?" the Kryptonian asked, not the least bit alarmed as it continued its work. Most avatars were like this, comfortable in their surroundings as they were. The world around them was a representation of the mind, each one differing from person to person. Though all lifeforms were beneath Despero, he did admire the different worlds he entered.

However, he was not here to merely visit.

"There is," he answered the Kryptonian. Lightning fast, one of his hands shot out, clamping down on the avatar, his palm pressed into the man's chest as fingers wrapped around his shoulders and beneath his arms. Lifting him up, Despero held Superman cleanly off the ground, his feet dangling beneath him as pieces of wet dirt fell from his boots. "You can submit to me."

Superman looked taken back by the order before steeling his features. "Sorry, but I'm going to have to decline—"

Whipping his arm to a side, Despero released the avatar, sending him flying through the air until he crashed down on top of the corn stalks, knocking them over. Out of the corner of his eye, Despero noted that the futuristic city in the distance had drawn closer, growing taller and more detailed.

"Whatever wishes you have are unimportant," the Kalanorian informed the man as he pushed himself back up. "The fact that I am here means that you have already lost. I highly recommend that you not offer any more resistance. It will be much more easier for you."

Superman's avatar levitated from the ground them, his body coiling up. "You need to leave—now."

The city was even closer now, or so what Despero could see of it from the corner of his eye. He highly suspected it was Kryptonian architecture, something he would not have minded viewing at a later date. Unless Superman perished, which was a very distinct possibility, he could visit his mind when his conquest was over.

"You can try, but like all the others you will fail," he warned the avatar.

Superman charged, much like he had at the onset of their battle. However, he wasn't going nearly as fast as he had in the physical plain, so Despero had no trouble halting the approaching man in midair. Raising a hand up, he caught the Kryptonian around the chest, much like he had done previously, the man's face twisting with strain as he fought to get out of the Kalanorian's grasp. Raising the man high into the air, Despero then swung him down, slamming his body onto the ground, leaving him dazed.

Raising him up again, Despero again bashed him onto the ground. Already he could feel the avatar go limp in his hand, already defeated. It wasn't unusual for his foes to be crushed like this; he had lost track of the number of times he had. It took a telepath to competently stand up to him and aside from his race, those were few and far in between.

Picking up Superman's body, the Kalanorian stared at his form as it hung limply. His third eye began to glow as he forced his mind into the avatar. This resulted in the avatar beginning to scream, low at first, but increasing with strength with every passing second.

It was music to his ears.

* * *

Despite Hawkgirl's tight grip on him, the Thanagarian's arms were practically caressing against the Dark Knight. Had he not been aware of them, he wouldn't have known they were wrapped around him. With her angel-like wings, she flew them smoothly through the air, something no amount of technology could replicate. A very small part of the vigilante was envious.

Even more impressive was how she had nulled the breakneck speed he had been falling at. He was pretty sure he had hit terminal velocity during his descent, all of which was ended the moment the winged woman had caught up with him. Spreading her wings, she angled them out of the fall and glided through the sky. Batman wasn't sure where she was taking them, but she didn't seem to be in a telling mood—and he wasn't going to force the answer out of her, not when she could drop him.

As it turned out, Hawkgirl had been looking for a landing spot for them, which turned out to be the deck of one of the ships. It was one of the carriers, so there weren't any weapons that would blast them out of the air, fortunately. At a quick, yet soft pace, Hawkgirl swooped them in, touching down without so much as rising a cloud of dust.

It was then that the winged woman released her hold on him, to which Batman took a step away. Turning around to face her, he was going to thank her—whether with words, or a simple nod of acknowledgement, he never got the chance to find out—when the Thanagarian scowled at him. The fact that her mask mimicked a hawk added emphasis to the look. "Are you nuts?" she questioned him. "Do you have a clue what would have happened to you if I hadn't caught you?"

"If you're assuming I would've landed in the bay, that was not my plan," Batman replied. "I had everything under control."

"Control, huh?" The Thanagarian crossed her arms over her chest, placing her weight on one leg as she bent the other at the knee. Her head shook from side to side as she indicated she didn't believe him. "That's not what I'd call control. There's a thin line between reckless and stupid and I gotta say, you weren't straddling the line—you were all the way in stupid territory."

As insulting as that was, Batman brushed it off. There were more pressing matters at hand. "We need to get back into the fight—this isn't anywhere near over."

"It is for you," Hawkgirl retorted. "You don't have your plane anymore and, even if you had a spare, there's no way I can reasonably let you fly in it. I can't keep an eye on you the entire time in case you decide to crash that one too and pull you out of another dive. That's dangerous for me too."

He in fact didn't have a second jet, unfortunately. But that wouldn't stop him. In fact, since they were on one of the space carrier ships, they must have the smaller fighter ships. "I could use one of their ships," he pointed out.

"And what makes you think you could pilot one of their ships? You don't know their technology nor their aerial capabilities. Face it, you're out of this fight."

That made Batman scowl. Though blunt, no amount of outrage he felt would've made Hawkgirl any less right. Assuming he could use alien tech was a big gamble and quite frankly that wasn't a risk they could afford to take, not when he'd need Hawkgirl's help to obtain one of the ships. Without anything to say, he remained silent.

Taking that as a sign she won that argument, the winged woman turned away from him to launch herself off the side of the carrier. "If you need a ride back to land, say something fast," she said, not even so much as a gloating tone in her voice. "Otherwise I'm going to help Flash protect your city."

Then, as if that had been a cue, a couple of the fighter ships flew over their heads, causing both of them to jerk their heads up. As sudden as they appeared, they then began to descend until they were skimming over the ocean surface. Frowning, Batman stepped towards the edge of the ship's deck, watching them curiously. It seemed Hawkgirl was also intrigued as she stayed where she stood.

As it turned out, both ships were heading right for the water spout the Flash had created. Bright yellow energy beams fired from the fighters, hitting the water at the base of the twister. A huge splash was created and soon after, the Flash's red form was flying through the air helplessly. In turn, his twister began waving wildly about until it lost its form, collapsing into a falling curtain of water.

"Flash!" Hawkgirl cried out as she leaped into the air. Instantly, Batman grabbed her wrist and jerked back, stopping her in mid-lunge. Whipping her head around, she gave him a look of rage. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she screamed.

"Just wait," he told her, returning his attention to the Flash. By then the red-clad man had landed in the water, floating on the surface very still. His landing must have knocked him out, or so he hoped.

It seemed his request had been for good reason. It wasn't long before one of the fighters descended next to Flash, hovering next to him. It then moved over the hero, metal claws extending out of its underside. Each claw clamped around the red-clad man's wrists and ankles. Once secure, the ship lifted the hero out of the water and began to fly off with him.

"They're taking him," Hawkgirl said, her tone less panicked than earlier.

Which was good. "Think you can fly us after that ship?" Batman inquired.

The Thanagarian turned her head to look at him. She looked as if she were contemplating if he'd be of any use, ultimately deciding he had some value as she nodded. Moving behind him, she wrapped her arms around his body much like she had when she had caught him earlier. Without a flap of her wings, she launched them into the air, heading after the Flash and his captors.

"Where do you think they're taking him?" Hawkgirl asked after awhile.

"No idea," Batman answered. "But they wouldn't have captured him without some plan in mind."

"True. Looks like this is going to be a 'wait and see' deal."

* * *

Despero dropped the Kryptonian onto the deck. He was finished as far as he was concerned. Even now, his people were emerging out of the ship and were approaching his fallen opponent. They would handle the Kryptonian.

That left one last matter to settle. Walking towards the edge of the ship, Despero came to a stop, looking out to the harbor of the Earth city. Staring, he soon spotted the last form of resistance.

Even from here, he could sense the tall, green man standing over one of his servants was not someone to trifle with. He had all the signs of a competent telepath and that was something one did not tread lightly with. Though powerful, Despero had met ones with greater ability and he had crushed them.

It all just relied on timing, luck, and a full frontal assault.

"O' Flame of Py'tar," he murmured to himself, feeling the familiar warmth grow within him. "I call upon thee to smite my enemies."

Purple flames erupted from his three eyes as well as his mouth. His hands spasmed before they balled into fists, which were soon enveloped in the same flames. Prepared, the Kalanorian extended on of his hands towards his target, relaxing it as his fingers hung lazily.

And then he reached out to the green man's mind.

Despero did not bother with caution, or care. He lashed out brutally and without compromise, assaulting his foe's mind. Through the flames, he could see the green man's body cringed, his hands shooting up to his head as he dropped to his knees.

A moment later and he felt resistances from the telepath. How quaint. With a low growl, he blasted out his mental energies, slamming them into the man's defenses and ripping them apart. Immediately he felt his opponent give out, his mind succumbing to Despero's onslaught.

And then the green man's body fell, collapsing onto the ground. It was finished now; Earth's last line of worthy warriors were defeated. While the planet's people would send their military forces to counter him, he was very well aware that no such weapons they possessed would dent his fleet.

"Retrieve the telepath," Despero ordered, the purple flames flickering out from his eyes and hands, the Kalanorian lowering his extended arm to his side. Soon the flames were guy, the colors of the world returning to their normal hues. Coolly, he gazed down at the harbor. "Begin reeducation."


	12. Death Wish

As Nightwing and Robin had feared, this outbreak of violence had found its way to Barbara's rehab. They had to fight their way up to the doors, leaving bruised, broken, and unconscious bodies in their wake. Each step had filled them with anxiety and desperation, their fears getting the best of them as they assumed the worst.

It turned out that while the guys with laser guns had reached the rehab center, they hadn't gone inside. "I guess this wasn't a top priority for them," Robin had mused as they stood in the lobby, breathing heavily from the exertion they had put themselves through.

Nightwing ignored the comment, choosing to take off down the hallway to Barbara's room, Robin hot on his heels. The sound of their pounding footsteps echoed throughout the corridor, making them sound louder than they probably were. Reaching the end of the hall, they made a left and kept running, coming up to another turn, but stopped short.

The door to Barbara's room just happened to be right before the turn and it was there the two young men slowed down. Grabbing the doorknob, Nightwing nearly tore the door off its hinges as he opened it. Sitting in a wheelchair by the window was Barbara, who had twisted her head around to look at her visitors. The moment she saw them, she perked up, though it wasn't out of happiness.

"What the hell is going on out there?" she demanded, her hands grabbing onto the wheels of her chair and maneuvered it to face the masked vigilantes. "It sounds like a war zone out there and—" she paused as she got a good look at the men, "—is...is that what the costumes look like?" she finished breathlessly.

"We'll show you yours later," Nightwing spoke, breaking the redhead out of her daze. "Right now there are guys out there with some serious firepower and sooner or later they're going to get into a gunfight with the local PD. We need to get you some place safe where you won't get caught in the crossfire."

Barbara slowly nodded in understanding. "Do you have a clue where we could go?" she asked.

"Not really," Robin answered. "We just happened to be in the right place to see these guys marching down the street. It could just be here, it could be all over the city. There's just no telling."

Nightwing really wanted to sag his shoulders in frustration, but he refused to do so in front of his friends. Now wasn't the time to let a bad situation get to him, them. They had already been through worse together and they were going to get out of this one too. They just had to.

Fortunately, it looked as if Barbara wasn't completely overwhelmed by everything. "What about your house, Robin?"

"Mine?" the younger man responded with surprise. "It's in the suburbs. Nothing happens out...there…" he trailed off.

Nightwing immediately pounced at what Barbara was getting at. "Then that's the perfect place to go. Here's the plan: we fight our way towards your neighborhood. Once there, you change out of your suit, Robin, and take Barbara in."

"Huh? But why do I have to change?"

"Are your parents going to let you keep an older girl in your home without you?" the older man asked pointedly. "They're probably out of their minds with worry right now, so there's no way they'd let you just drop Barb off and let you out into the streets."

"But that leaves you out here all alone," Robin retorted angrily. "No backup whatsoever. No, I'm not going to let you do that."

A sigh from Barbara cause the two men to pause, turning their heads to look at her. "I don't think there's much of a choice, Tim. Unless Dick decides to crash with you—which I highly doubt he will," she said, sending a glare to Nightwing, "—he's gonna have to be on his own." Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "Unless you try to hook up with the Birds of Prey. They have to be out in this mess too."

"Then that's what I'll do," Nightwing confirmed. "Once we get you two safe, I'll go meet up with them. They'll get my back and I'll get theirs."

"I guess that could work," Robin agreed reluctantly, clearly having reservations. "I just want to go on record that I really don't like this."

"Me too," Barbara added.

"Then it's settled," Nightwing announced, trying to end the conversation. The longer they were here, the longer they were in danger. It was time to move out. "Robin, you lead the way, I'll cover our backs. Let's go."

Without waiting, Robin took off into the hall, Barbara wheeling herself after him, which left the older man pulling up the rear. Closing Barbara's door behind him, the three made their way to the entrance of the center, pausing at the door. Robin had peeked his head out to get an idea of what was going on in the streets and he didn't look the least bit pleased.

"You're not going to like this, but it looks like those guys have an armored squadron," he spat out angrily. Frowning, Nightwing moved next to the younger man and poked his head out.

His friend wasn't kidding. Due to the rehab center being at the corner of an intersection, that put them right next to several armored trucks being parked smack dab in the middle of said intersection. From where he stood, he could see the back of one of the trucks was open, more weapons being handed out, no doubt the same thing happening with the other truck. Damn it, there was no way they could just sneak their way out of here, not without being seen, and subsequently shot at.

"Tell me there's a back way out of here," Nightwing asked Barbara, not bothering to look at her.

"Beats me," the redhead replied, much to his chagrin. That wasn't the answer he was hoping for. "I'm not exactly the most mobile person around."

"Then I highly suggest that we go find one if it's there. It's a hell of a lot better than wading out in—"

He wasn't able to finish what he was saying, mostly due to one of the armored trucks suddenly exploding. The roar of the blast made the vigilante jerk backwards, the glass in the door cracking from the force. The men in the streets were all cringing or diving to the ground, just before a second explosion sent the other truck flipping up into the air, crashing further down the street with a loud _BANG!_

That was when something rammed into the corner of the first, now burning, truck, causing it to spin off to a side, plowing into a street lamp, which stopped the truck while causing the pole to fall down on top of it. That was when a sleek, black car appeared, turning to a side as it skidded down the road perpendicular to it.

Anyone that was anybody knew that car just from sight. The Batmobile, that just had to be it.

However, Nightwing couldn't help but frown. Wasn't Batman off getting in dogfights with the alien ships in the sky? Since when he had gotten back to the city, not to mention drive out in his bad ass car?

Because of the way it was skidding, anyone that was unable to get out of the Batmobile's path found themselves being slammed into its side, their bodies rolling over the top before falling onto the ground on the other side. This had the added benefit of knocking a lot of the men out, thankfully.

It seemed the Batclan wasn't going to have to duck out the back after all.

Unfortunately, not everyone was taken down for the count. As the Batmobile finally came to a stop right in front of the rehab center, two men with the laser guns stood on the sidewalk between the car and the building. Immediately, they opened fire, yellow laser beams racing through the air and piercing right through the windshield. Over and over they fired, making Swiss cheese out of the roof and windshield glass, leaving holes with singed edges in their wake.

Nightwing couldn't help but stare in horror, just before his body kicked into gear and began to move through the doorway, pushing the door open. The only thing that stopped him was Robin and Barbara grabbing onto his arms. "Dick, don't," Robin hissed.

"Did you see what they did?" Nightwing raged back. "They just ripped apart the Batmobile! No way the Bat survived!"

"Exactly. You go out there and you set yourself up to getting shot too. I know we just got out of that mess, but we had a plan and it worked. You don't have one, so before you get your head blown off, let's come up with one first."

That wasn't that bad of an idea actually. Taking a deep breath, Nightwing forced himself to calm down even as he kept the door open.

That was when the roof of the Batmobile began to slide forward, making the vigilante realize it was a canopy. Holding his breath, he waited as the canopy came to a stop, the two gunmen in front of it, keeping their weapons trained on the car. Nightwing wasn't sure what to expect at this point, be it the Bat leaping out of the car, or the gunmen working up the courage to look inside and see a corpse.

What he wasn't expected was a thin girl to appear.

Blinking his eyes, Nightwing had to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Focusing his eyes, he found he wasn't mistake, that a young girl was climbing out of the Batmobile and stood next to it. She was dressed in black from her feet up to her neck. A domino mask covered her eyes, the only thing that could be considered a disguise.

The two men found this hilarious. "You've got to be kidding me!" one exclaimed as the two busted out laughing. "What is this? Send-your-wannabe-Bat-kid-to-die Day?"

In response, the girl began to stroll towards the men, not the least bit offended by their words. Her dark, shoulder length hair barely budged as she walked. The ease with which she moved sent flags up in Nightwing's head. Something about this wasn't right…

"Well, I'm an equal opportunity kind of guy," the same man said as he raised his laser gun up to the girl. "I shoot whatever is in front of me, be it men, women, Bats, or dumb little gi—"

That's when Nightwing lost sight of her. He had only blinked and the next thing he knew, the girl was in midair between the men. Her right leg was fully extended, her foot collided with the side of one of the men's faces while her left fist slammed into the loudmouth man's head. Both men dropped to the ground, lying in separate heaps as the girl dropped down to land on her feet.

Rapidly blinking, all Nightwing could say was, "Wow."

Apparently, the girl heard him and her head jerked up to look right at him. Immediately, Nightwing held his hands up to indicate he wasn't a threat. "Hey, whoa, I mean you no harm."

Standing at her full height, all of five feet—five and a half...maybe?—she began walking towards the vigilante much like she had approached the two gunmen. It was like a cat approaching its prey, fully alert, yet playful. Faintly, Nightwing wondered if he could stop her if she decided to attack.

So he kept talking at her in hopes something worked. "No harm, not enemies. Uhh, we help? No?" Damn, this was tough and apparently Robin and Barbara weren't going to help him with this. They were silent as mice. "Tu hablas ingles?" he tried, using his minimal Spanish. Seeing no reaction, it obviously didn't work. "Uhh, we're friends, okay? Friends with Batman."

Suddenly, the girl stopped, her head perking up. Oh, good, he finally found something. Thank you, merciful Jesus. "Yeah, we know the Bat. We're friends with him," he pressed. Stepping to a side, incidentally opening the door wider to reveal his friends behind him, he continued, "All three of us are."

The girl didn't respond to him, merely looking from him, to Barbara, to Robin, then back to Nightwing. "We're just trying to get out of here," he said. "We could use your help."

The girl tilted her head to a side. "Help?" she said at last, as if she were tumbling over the word.

"Yeah, help. We go somewhere else."

She then gave him a sharp nod. "Help."

"Great, perfect." Slowly, cautiously, Nightwing approached her, holding a hand out to her for a handshake. "I'm Nightwing."

In response, she just looked at his offered hand then back at him. Hmm, now this was oddly familiar. Dropping his hand, he then held out his other to indicate the approaching Robin and Barbara. "The other guy is Robin. The woman is...uhh, a friend."

"A friend, huh?" Barbara spoke up teasingly. "Is that all I am to you?"

"I can't exactly give her your name and you're not in costume, ya know."

"I know, I know. Don't get your tights in a knot."

"Speaking of," Robin butted in. "I think tights is all this girl is wearing."

That got Barbara's attention. "She's what?!" Wheeling herself closer, she stared at the girl. "She's got the Batmobile, but she isn't wearing a bit of armor? What kind of guy is he?!"

"She could be out here without his permission," Robin pointed out. "I mean, we were for the longest time. Maybe it's the same with her."

"And look where that got us," Barbara scowled. "No, no way are we going to make the same mistake. We have to get this girl some proper battle clothes."

"Like what?" Nightwing exclaimed. "It's not like we can pick anything up at this time of night. There's no Vigilantes-R-Us around and even if there were, it would've been looted by now."

That was when the redhead bit her bottom lip. She was thinking and apparently she was torn about the thought. "She...she can use mine," she finally said.

Nightwing felt as if he had been punched in the gut. "What? But that's your suit. Are you sure—"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Barbara interrupted him, her shoulders slumping. "Look, it's not doing anyone any good locked up. We need to put her in something and that's the best thing we've got."

"If...if you say so."

"So change in plan," Robin spoke up. "How are we going to get to the shipping yard though?"

That's when the three collectively turned their eyes to the Batmobile. "Do you think that thing can still run?" Nightwing asked.

* * *

Flash had been taken to one of the carrier ships. It was there his unconscious body had been restrained and he had been boarded onto another ship, a transport cruiser. It was this ship that Batman and Hawkgirl stealthily boarded.

The entire time Batman had used his experience with Frenzay to his benefit, clearing his mind of thought and just acting. There were more of these Kalanorians and he wasn't going to assume there wasn't another mind-reader in the bunch. Better to expect their entire race was telepathic than not to, only to be proven wrong.

Yet, Hawkgirl didn't appear to make any such preparations. Either she reacted on instinct—which he doubted considering she had investigative skills—or she didn't care if her mind was read. Even more surprising was that none of the Kalanorians actually detected her. Perhaps she had compensated in a different manner—a mind blocking device in her mask? Either way, it was something for him to investigate at a later date.

The transport ship, thankfully, had large ventilation shafts, so he and Hawkgirl were currently sitting in one comfortably. Several minutes ago they had felt the ship moving, meaning they were heading elsewhere. Batman didn't like not knowing where they were going, but if they were going to rescue Flash, they needed to keep a low profile.

"I'm not receiving any feedback from the others," the winged woman whispered, hand next to her ear. She had been trying to contact the rest of the Justice League; apparently she hadn't succeeded.

"Either they're still fighting, or they've been captured," Batman replied back, his voice low. Neither wanted to chance having a Kalanorian hear them.

"What makes you think they've been captured?" Hawkgirl inquired.

"If they wanted the Flash dead, they could have done it at any time," the vigilante responded, careful to not let his thoughts linger on his words. He needed to speak them before he gave them due thought; that was a surefire way to be detected. "Instead they went to all the effort in apprehending him. That tells me that if given the choice, they're going to capture the League instead of kill them."

The Thanagarian nodded her agreement. "Good point. Any idea where they're taking us?"

"Not a clue."

"Didn't think so." She sighed then, closing her eyes as she leaned the back of her head against the wall of the vent. Apparently she was content with silence, something Batman wasn't opposed to. Copying her actions, he relaxed and settled in for the long haul, focusing on his meditation.

However, it seemed as if the ride wasn't going to be completely quiet. It was a while, but eventually Hawkgirl broke the silence. "There's something you and I need to talk about."

In response, he opened his eyes to look at her, slightly tilting his head up to indicate he was listening. The redhead was looking back at him, a serious look on her face. "If we're going to succeed in this, I need you to not do anything stupid. Fighting to survive is one thing, but having a death wish is something completely different."

"I don't have a death wish," the vigilante responded.

"Then what do you call that plunge of yours?"

"I was trying to get underneath the ships. If I had tried to parachute my way through the fleet, I'd be a sitting duck for their guns."

Hawkgirl slowly nodded her understanding. "Okay, I can see that a little. But that doesn't explain why you went headfirst between two exploding ships. If you have a survival instinct at all, you would've avoided that. You were lucky there wasn't any debris floating about in there, otherwise you'd be a spatter right now."

She paused as her eyes glazed over. In return, Batman just remained quiet. She was obviously thinking of something and it wasn't worth the effort to press her for it, not when she'd be telling him in due time.

And as predicted, she did. "You don't strike me as an adrenaline junkie. If so, then your crime-fighting is going to take a serious hit after this. No way does beating on random thugs compare to what you just did." A sigh. "In fact, you remind me of someone I knew from Thanagar."

Batman was intrigued by this, but he did his best to keep the emotion suppressed. He refused to let a stray thought linger. Hawkgirl continued, "We were assigned the same unit. At first he was addicted to the rush of battle. He was never more alive than when he was swinging his battle ax. But, eventually he lost his taste for it, though he was always the first to volunteer for a mission. It was awhile before I realized that he had tossed away any will to live, that he was searching for a battleground that would finally take him. There was no rush, no death wish; if he had wanted to simply die, there were a number of ways he could do it without fighting. Suicide, for instance. Instead, he sought out a simple blast of glory and that was it."

The redhead sharpened her eyes on the dark-clad man. "And that's the feeling I'm getting from you. You'll fight to live, but you don't really care that you do. You just want to find a fitting end."

Batman closed his eyes, not to ignore her, but to face the rush of emotions and images that were about to flood him. He put all of his focus on his breathing, keeping as calm as he could while beating back the rush. He knew what to expect: bullets, blood, the smell of fire and smoke, drowning, madness. If he didn't get a handle on them, they would overwhelm him and he'd alert every Kalanorian on the shuttle to their presence, if not their location.

Fortunately, he was able to suppress them. Thankfully Hawkgirl allowed him to do his meditation, not prodding him for a response. Once he was in control, Batman opened his eyes, seeing the Thanagarian waiting patiently.

"I suppose you're right," he admitted. "Perhaps it's just as you say it is. For the longest time I've been angry. Not the wall-punching kind, but the one that simmers and seethes, never ending no matter what you do." He noticed a slight shift in the woman's posture. "You know what I'm talking about."

Hawkgirl nodded. "I do."

"Then you know how long it can last: years. I've been like that since I was eight years old. Nothing I did growing up, being Batman, none of it could relieve it. It was an ongoing cycle. I've had moments where it wasn't all-consuming, didn't hurt as much, but those were few and far in between."

This time it was his turn to pause as he took a deep breath. "The only reprieve I got was when I was fighting the Joker. I can still remember falling off that catwalk, the pain of my body breaking on cement, the smell of fire and smoke. I was slipping away and along with it my anger drained away."

When he didn't continue, Hawkgirl prodded, "And then?"

Another sigh. "Peace."

Perhaps that wasn't the best way to describe that moment, but he had yet to find a word that better encompassed what he had felt. A genuine smile appeared on his face. "I can't say for sure there was a Heaven or Hell; can't quite remember that, but I do recall that feeling."

Then his smile fell, souring with what came next. "And then it was ripped away from me. I was burning inside and out, madness infecting my head. I couldn't breath. The first thing I can remember was being restrained on a bed, my mind a jumble of pictures and words, but none of it making sense."

Batman stopped, feeling his anger beginning to rear its head. He clamped down on it, but it took much longer to keep it contained. His breathing was elevated, so it needed to be slowed.

By the time he managed to regain total control, Hawkgirl was talking again. "So that's what Diana meant. She told us about meeting Ra's al Ghul, about how you lost your memory. I wasn't sure what he meant by the 'trauma of rebirth,' but I think I'm getting an idea."

Hmm, that was an appropriate way to describe it. "Even now I have moments where I feel...wrong," he admitted. "Like I'm not supposed to be here."

That's when the woman's face hardened. "You better cut that out _now_. Guess what, you've gotten what no other person will ever get: a second chance—literally. You died, sorry, but you're alive now. And since you chose—again—to fight crime when you could've done anything else, started a brand new life, you have to follow through." She leaned towards him. "And that means not getting yourself killed again."

Batman wasn't about to tell her she was a little late on that one. His resurrection at the hands of Rama Kushna was even stranger than the Lazarus Pit, what with the restoration of his memory. It was something he could ignore considering his unbridled anger had returned with a vengeance, but the out-of-placeness had slowly reared its head over time. Regardless, there's was no point in pointing that out.

So, he decided to change the subject. Though he intended on figuring this out later, now was a good time to press his curiosity. "Tell me something," he spoke. "Are the Kalanorians able to read your mind?"

That made Hawkgirl frown. "Huh? No. Why?"

"When we encountered the one in Metropolis, he was able to read my thoughts. I've had to suppress all emotions and rational thought to go undetected. I've been doing that ever since we boarded the ship. Yet, you're not even trying to rein yourself in and you've gone undetected as well."

The Thanagarian leaned away from him, pressing her back against the wall. "Oh," was all she said.

Batman waited patiently for more, but it soon became apparent that the redhead wasn't going to indulge him. So he pressed, "Is that all?"

"For you, yeah. It's none of your business."

The vigilante narrowed his eyes. "The League isn't aware of this, are they?"

The moment she stiffened, he knew he was right. "I'll take that back," he said then. "The Martian must have noticed, but hasn't spoken to you about it. The others are the ones in the dark."

"Like...I...said...it's not your business."

He smirked. He had pressed a button and she wasn't liking it. Perhaps it was immature of him to do so considering the "heart-to-heart" they had just had, but he wasn't entirely comfortable telling others about what had happened to him. He was the only person left in the world that knew his plight, assuming that one other was dead. He had his doubts at times.

Regardless, now was a poor time to anger an ally, so he needed to make some reparations. "I apologize for my bluntness. This isn't the place to be getting into that."

Hawkgirl looked away from him, arms crossing over her chest. "How about we just stop talking? Sound good? Great."

Well, as long as they were professional in the upcoming fight, that's all that really mattered at this point. Again returning to his meditation, the dark-clad man blocked out the simmering Thanagarian and everything else around him. He needed to find his center so that anymore emotional outbursts wouldn't threaten to overwhelm him.

With the steady rise and fall of his chest, his respirations slowing down to a calm, soothing pace, Batman felt his body relax, the tension flowing out of him.


	13. The Rescue

The moment the shuttle stopped, Batman and Hawkgirl were on the move. Searching for an exit, they found a ventilation grate that revealed a storage room. Since there were no signs of life within it, Hawkgirl forced the grate out, allowing the two to enter the room.

Carefully, Batman crept up to the door, slowly cracking it open to get a look into the corridor beyond it. Surprisingly there was no activity, though it was likely they were in a part of the ship that was inactive.

That was when something hit the Dark Knight in the head. It wasn't hard, but it was most certainly noticeable. Startled, he whipped around, realizing that what had hit him was a sheet. He soon spotted Hawkgirl wrapping a cloak around her. "If we're going to be mingling, we need to look inconspicuous," she said, pulling the hood over her head.

Accepting her explanation, the vigilante copied her action, finding he too had a cloak thanks to the winged woman throwing it at him. Covering his head with the hood as well, he made sure his disguise covered every bit of him, even tying a sash around it to keep it closed. Had this been an infiltration on Earth, he would've said they looked like priests.

"Ready?" Hawkgirl asked, but then didn't wait for his response, instead moving passed him to open the door. Batman couldn't help but notice how she hunched over, the back of her cloak revealing very little of her wings. He was surprised by her ability to hide such obvious attachments. That said, he couldn't find it in him to refute her thinking and instead mimicked her posture, hunching himself over as he bowed his head to keep it low.

Following the Thanagarian, the two of them walked the halls, exploring the shuttle until they came across the Kalanorians. Fortunately, the aliens didn't pay them any mind, instead focusing on their task, which turned out to be escorting a still unconscious Flash. Batman narrowed his eyes at the sight. Considering how quickly the red-clad man's body recovered, he should have been awake by now. Unless there was a drug they were using that his body couldn't metabolize fast enough, there had to be another explanation. A bump to the head wouldn't have cause this.

Then again, now that he considered just who they were dealing with, if this was a race of telepaths, then they were using their powers to keep Flash asleep. That was the only logical reason he could come up with.

To Hawkgirl's credit, she didn't immediately launch herself to go save her comrade, instead sticking next to the vigilante, watching with sharp eyes. The two observed as Flash's group moved into another hallway, disappearing from sight. As one, they then approached the corridor, peeking around the corner to see that the new hall became the exit for the ship they were on.

"So how do we follow them?" the winged woman asked.

It was a legitimate question. It wasn't like they could stroll out of this shuttle without being spotted. Their obvious choice was to look as inconspicuous as possible. Considering the Kalanorians in front of them were involved with transferring Flash, they had to appear as if they were also performing a task.

Glancing around, Batman soon saw a nearby door, alien lettering on it, or at least what he assumed was an alien language. Regardless, he stepped towards it and opened the door, finding what must have been an armory. Not exactly what he wanted, but it would do. Stepping inside, he grabbed a couple of the laser guns and exited the room. Turning to Hawkgirl, he tossed her one of the weapons, the woman catching it with ease.

"So we're guards," she said succinctly. "I can live with that."

Responding with a sharp nod, they then moved side by side to the ship's exit, emerging out of the ship and into a large hanger. Eyes darting every which way, Batman soon realized that many of the ships here looked just like the one they were leaving, the Kalanorians performing maintenance of the space vehicles. Quickly, the vigilante spotted Flash and his guards heading towards a doorway.

It seemed Hawkgirl had seen the same thing as she began moving in that direction. Keeping up, they followed the group, entering another hallway. All the while Batman felt a peculiar feeling. It was strange, but ever since he and Hawkgirl arrived, he hadn't so much as heard a conversation. The only sounds made were the footsteps ahead of them and whatever maintenance had been performed in the hanger. Otherwise, not a single voice had been heard, no words made. It was discomforting.

Glancing to the Thanagarian, he noticed her eyes flickered to his at the same time. Raising one of his hands, he pointed to his ear, hoping she understood what he was signing. Thankfully she did as she shrugged her shoulders up, shaking her head a second later. So he wasn't the only one unnerved by this.

Soon, they reached a point that forced them to stop, taking cover around a corner as they looked around it. Flash's group had stopped at a doorway where a Kalanorian guard stood. The leader of the group looked to the guard and spoke the first words either of the heroes had heard since arriving. "We're here to drop off a prisoner for reeducation."

The guard nodded in response and moved to open the door, said door sliding to a side. Once more the Kalanorian group began to move entering the room.

"I don't like the sound of that," Hawkgirl whispered, her eyes narrowing.

Batman didn't either. He could only imagine what the "reeducation" included, most likely brainwashing Flash onto their side. The Fastest Man Alive believing the invaders were in the right—that was a scary thought. Any fight would be over in the blink of an eye.

They had to put a stop to that.

"What are you two doing?" a voice suddenly demanded.

Keeping still, Batman refused to show his surprise and anger about being snuck up on. Instead, he smoothly turned to find a Kalanorian glaring at him and Hawkgirl. Hmm, that was perhaps the most emotion he had seen from one of these aliens.

Unfortunately, Hawkgirl chose at that moment to finally leap into action. Spinning around, she pointed her weapon right at the Kalanorian's chest and opened fired, the yellow beam tearing through the alien as he let out a scream.

And that's when the alarms went off.

Darting around the corner, her hood flying off her head to reveal her masked face, Hawkgirl fired her laser gun towards the Kalanorian guard, shooting it over and over. Unable to see whether she hit who she was aiming for, Batman dropped his gun to the floor, not the least bit intending on using it. Instead he reached under his robe to his belt, where he pulled out his brass knuckles and slipped them on. Squeezing his hands into fists, electricity began to dance over the brass knuckles.

Moving next to Hawkgirl, he finally saw that she had indeed dispatched the guard, but the door in front of them was still closed. That didn't mean it would stay that way. Running, Batman raced towards the doorway, arriving just as the door slid open to reveal more Kalanorians. Leaping at them, he slammed his right fist into the face of one of the aliens, unloading painful voltage into him and dropping him to the floor.

Landing on his feet, Batman instinctively went into a crouch. That was the only reason why he wasn't shot as an energy beam flew right over his head and burned into the Kalanorian in front of him. Turning his attention to the guard to his left, he then pushed off the ground with his legs, ramming his shoulder and elbow into the alien and pushing him into the wall. In rapid succession, he pounded his other fist into the Kalanorian's side over and over, making him cry out from pain. With his last punch, he smashed it into the side of the alien's head, bashing his head against the wall and effectively knocking him out.

That's when Hawkgirl entered the fray, having discarded her own gun in favor of her mace. Letting out a war cry, she shot right by the vigilante, slamming her electrified mace into another Kalanorian's face and knocking him clear off his feet. Without so much as a pause, she twisted in midair as she continued her flight, beating down the remaining two Kalanorians with a blow each.

Spotting a computer terminal, Batman quickly decided he would be more useful working the machine and dashed towards it. The moment he got a look at the panel, he discovered it was amazingly simple: it only had two buttons on it.

Two buttons he wasn't sure what they did exactly.

Hesitating for only a moment, he had to force himself to press one blindly. Fortunately, that button did what he wanted and closed the door, sealing he and his comrade in the room. Not bothering to figure out what the other did, he leaned backwards and delivered a kick to the panel, denting it. Kicking it again and again, he eventually damaged it enough to make sure the door would have a hard time opening without some sort of repair on the other side.

Turning away from the computer panel, Batman then saw what had happened to Flash. He was currently shackled to a stand, arms stretched out and legs spread. His head hung forward, still unconscious.

And Hawkgirl was standing right in front of him.

Raising a hand up, she slapped the red-clad man, demanding, "Wake up, Flash." This had no effect. She then backhanded him with the same hand, his head swinging the other way as she repeated, "Wake up."

"I don't think it's working," Batman said dryly.

"If you have a better idea, I'm all ears," the Thanagarian replied, once more slapping her comrade.

Reaching to his belt, Batman pulled out a small packet of smelling salts. Walking towards the two heroes, he purposefully put himself between Hawkgirl and Flash, the winged woman stepping back in response. With both hands, he held the smelling salts in front of Flash's face, snapping it with his fingers.

Just like Hawkgirl's slapping, it had no effect.

"That didn't work either," the redhead said before she moved around the vigilante, ready to continue her slapping.

Immediately, Batman grabbed her by her wrist. "Which means that nothing we do is going to wake him. He's being forced into unconsciousness by telepathy."

Hawkgirl stared at him before she lowered her hand to her side. "So we have to find the person responsible for this. Where do we start?"

Before Batman could answer, the sound of mechanical locks clicking into place filled his ears. Jerking his head to the door, the dark-clad man stared worriedly at it. Considering he had mangled the only device to unlock said door, the fact that they were being locked in was not a good one.

As if to prove him right, a hissing sound started, causing him to jerk his head to a nearby vent. Faintly, he could pick out the rush of a translucent air—no, gas. Gas was being injected into the room.

"Oh, great," Hawkgirl snarled before she held up her mace. "Hold your breath, I'm going to get us out of here."

Leaping up into the air, she flew towards the door, slamming her mace against it and leaving a large dent in it. Over and over she bashed her weapon against it, slowly, but surely, forcing the door out of its threshold. With one last swing, she ripped the door out of place and sent it crashing to the floor.

Immediately, bolts of electricity collided with the Thanagarian, causing her body to stiffen as she let out a pained scream. On instinct, Batman pulled his cape in front of him, shielding himself from excess voltage. Faintly, he could feel his mind beginning to become dull, a sign that he had breathed in some of the gas.

Damn it.

Pushing back against the gas' effect, he peeked around his cape in time to see Hawkgirl collapse onto the floor, smoke wafting up from her unconscious body. Looking up to the door, he noticed several Kalanorians standing in the doorway, four of which were holding what looked liked a metal battering ram, though its face revealed a hole, possible the opening of a barrel.

"Surrender, or die," one of the aliens demanded.

"How about neither," he muttered to himself, even as he reached a hand to pull out a smoke pellet.

That's when his assumption about the battering ram's opening being a barrel was proven true, a bolt of electricity firing from it and hitting the Dark Knight head on. He was sure that he screamed, but thankfully he fell into unconsciousness before the real pain ripped him apart.

* * *

The Batmobile slowed to a stop, much to Nightwing's relief.

It was unfortunate that Batman's car was only a two-seater. Seeing as the girl wasn't going to let either of the Batclan members drive, she took over the driver's seat. That left the passenger seat. Tim had called shotgun and immediately dove in. Seeing as how Barbara was handicapped, she took a seat in the younger man's lap, much to both of their discomfort. That just left Nightwing without a seat.

Which was why he was on the roof.

Most of the trip to the shipping yard was a blur, mostly because the high speeds they had traveled at had left him squinty-eyed and his face feeling raw from the intense wind. He was going to need a lot of chapstick once this night was over.

Fortunately, they didn't run into any of the bad guys, so the drive had been done in one go. Feeling the canopy move, Nightwing slid with it, unable to force himself off of it.

"Hey Dude, you okay?" Robin called to him a moment later.

"Yeah, just peachy. We should do this again," he groaned back, slowly pushing himself up. Rolling to a side, he soon found himself dropping off the car, somehow getting his feet under him so that he landed with both of them on the ground. Unfortunately, his balance was shit and he nearly buckled from the impact, using the Batmobile to brace himself.

"Graceful," Barbara remarked. "Are you going to help me out of here, or are you gonna keep me sitting here?"

"Just give me a minute," Nightwing gasped out. "What I just did wasn't easy, you know."

A soft, tapping sound caught his attention. Leaning his head back, he then rolled it to a side, seeing the girl standing on top of the hood of the black car. She was surveying the area, looking for potential threats. Had it not been for her shoes striking metal, he never would have heard her.

"Okay, I think I'm ready," he finally said as he straightened himself out. Turning to face the car, he reached inside and began hauling Barbara out, the redhead doing her best to climb onto the side of the cockpit. It took a lot of maneuvering, but eventually the vigilante was holding the woman in his arms, his right beneath her knees and his left pressing up against her back. Barbara wrapped her arms around his neck to better stabilize herself.

That was when Robin bounded out of the Batmobile, stretching his legs the first moment he could. "I was starting to think I'd never get out," he commented a moment later.

Walking, Nightwing carried Barbara to the front of the car, sitting her on top of the hood, her legs dangling in front of the bumper, or at least what the young man thought was the bumper. Considering this thing had rammed through an armored truck, there had to be something more to this. Turning to face the shipping container, he then approached it, opening it after punching in the security code.

"Wow," Barbara breathed the moment she could see inside. "You weren't kidding about this."

Nightwing winced. It didn't feel right that this was the redhead's introduction to their equipment, but there wasn't changing what had happened. Steeling his nerves, he entered the container, worming his way between the tables and shelves until he reached the hanging Batgirl costume.

Hauling the suit off its mannequin, he then brought it out, setting it down beside Barbara. Stunned silent, the redhead carefully reached out and began tracing her fingers along the Bat Symbol on the chest. Unlike her old costume with the solid yellow bat, this one was only a yellow outline, the inside as black as the rest of the costume.

Barbara swallowed. "You know, I didn't really want to give this up. But now, it...it just feels right to." Looking up to Night...no, to Dick and Tim, she gave them a sad smile. "This isn't me anymore."

"Don't say that," Tim responded heatedly. "You're Batgirl, no matter what happens. You always will be."

The Gordon girl sighed. "No, Tim, that's impossible now. Batgirl has to at least be able to walk and I can't do that anymore. This is the end of the line for me." She then looked to the dark-haired girl, who had remained quiet throughout the exchange. "You're working with Batman, right?"

The girl just stared at her.

Barbara frowned slightly before she pointed at the girl. "You...help...Batman?" she tried again.

This time she received a response, the girl nodding. "Good. I want you to have this suit. If Batman is going to have a sidekick, it might as well be someone that wears a Bat." To make sure the girl understood, Barbara began pushing the suit towards her.

Dick couldn't help but swallow hard. Watching this, he felt as if things weren't going to be the same ever again.

* * *

It wasn't often J'onn found himself groaning. It was unusual that he lost consciousness for any reason. That's what made his current situation all the more alarming.

The Martian found himself restrained against some sort of wall. No, that would be incorrect seeing as that he could see three walls, two of which extended somewhere behind him that he could not see. That meant he was held against some sort of stand. His hands were covered by metal restraints as well as his feet, a band wrapped tightly at his waist.

Whoever had designed this had intended to use them on someone that could not change their mass. Shrinking his hands, J'onn planned on sliding his arms out when he noticed the restraints adjusted to the thinning of his appendages. Frowning, he made them bigger, feeling the same thing.

Hmm, it seemed he had erred. If changing his mass wasn't working, then perhaps becoming translucent would work.

The moment he tried that, a painful shock roared through his body, a cry leaping out of his mouth in response. Taking several deep breath, J'onn recovered from the shocking. He had underestimated the technology of his captors; they had taken into consideration many of his powers and designed the perfect restraints. Considering his other powers, the Martian faintly wondered what would happen if he employed them. Either they would succeed where he had so far failed, or they would not. Frankly, he was hesitant to experiment.

Which led to J'onn wondering how they knew. In all of the battles he had participated in, he never once revealed his every power. A person would have to observe him in practically every situation conceivable to learn his every move. While that had been done before, he doubted his captors had. Of the Kalanorians he had encountered, they would have only known of his strength, his shape-shifting, and this telepathy...

Telepathy.

Immediately, J'onn recalled the sudden mental attack that had overwhelmed him. Never had he felt such power, such force. That last thing he remembered seeing was the image of his attacker, the one he knew to be called Despero.

What a mind.

Suddenly, the doors to the room opened and the Kalanorian Angash entered. "Greetings," he said smugly, approaching the Martian. "I hope your accommodations are acceptable. We went to a lot of effort."

J'onn held his tongue, staring impassively at his captor. Angash didn't seem the least bit disappointed as his lack of a response. "I'm sure you've realized by now that you cannot escape your shackles; they were made to specifically keep you restrained. Lord Despero was quite surprised at the multitude of powers at your disposal, so we had to make many modifications."

"What does Despero want with me?" J'onn asked.

Those words made Angash's face split with glee. "So good of you to talk. As you know, Lord Despero is a conqueror. Though he is willing to use force, he prefers to claim converts instead of leaving corpses. With someone of your abilities, you would make a fine servant. In fact, Lord Despero insists."

The Martian narrowed his eyes. "I will never submit to such subjugation."

The Kalanorian leaned towards him until his face was only inches away. "I was hoping you'd say that. No one has resisted the will of Lord Despero and lived. I know you will try, but you will fail.

"And I will enjoy every second of it."

Angash pulled back, moving over to a computer panel. Looking at the Martian with a gloating look, he then said, "Because of your telepathy, we aren't able to use our normal methods of reeducation. Unfortunately for you, we're going to have to be rougher."

He pressed a button. Immediately, pain coursed through J'onn's body, making him scream.

"We have to break you down, first through your body, and once your mind is at its most vulnerable will we begin the instruction. I won't be around for that last part, so I will only have to let your screams of torment keep me warm. Do not fret though; soon we will be allies and all of this will be...how do the Earthlings say it?"

Angash paused as he thought before his face lit up when he discovered what he sought. "Ah yes, water beneath the bridge."

* * *

It was a strange sight. For all the time Dick had been doing this vigilante schtick, he had gotten used to a mane of red hair waving in the wind, green eyes rolling at every corny joke he told—a rather attractive body hugged by spandex in all the right ways.

To see a slimmer body in the Batgirl suit was foreign. Instead of long red hair, shorter black hair emerged out the backside of the mask, and dark eyes peered at him instead of green ones.

It was once said that change, no matter how long it took, was inevitable. Well, Dick did not like these changes. Not one bit.

Seeing as he didn't have an actual name for the girl, Dick labeled her Batgirl. She was wearing the Batgirl suit, so that's all he had to go on.

"I think she looks good," Barbara spoke up, causing Dick to jerk his head over to stare at her. The original Batgirl didn't look the least bit perturbed at the sight of someone one else wearing her armor. In fact, she seemed appreciative.

 _Alright, that's enough whining. It's time to get your game face on,_ Dick mentally chided himself. Settling into his Nightwing mindset, he said, "Barbara, I know we were planning on sending you to Tim's house, but I really have no clue how to get you there, not without taking you in the Batmobile; and I get the feeling our new friend here isn't going to let you take a joyride in it."

"We can always ask," Robin commented. "Worst case she says no."

"Which leaves Barb stuck here."

"You know, I may be stuck in a chair, but my arms still work pretty good," Barbara retorted. "I can stay here until you get things under control in Gotham. Then Tim and I can go to his house, or mine if necessary."

"You think staying here is a good idea?" Nightwing asked, surprise in his voice.

"It's not like there's one single safe spot in Gotham. Whenever something goes down, the entire city is a target; nothing is off limits. Now, do you intend on wasting time making sure one single person is safe when the rest of the city is in need?" Making a shooing motion with her hand, Barbara continued, "Go, be a hero. I'll be waiting for you to get back." She then glanced over to Robin. "That means you too."

"Well, if you're sure," the younger man replied uneasily.

"Tim, has there ever been a time I wasn't sure?" She suddenly glared at him. "Don't answer that if you know what's good for you."

A smirk worked its way onto Nightwing's face, not a genuine one as much as it was for show. "You heard Red, it's time to go." He then turn to Batgirl, dropping all pretenses of being comforting.

Only to find that she had vanished. Jerking his head left to right and back, Nightwing sought out her dark costume, finding nothing that even resembled her. "Where the hell did she go?!" he demanded.

Barbara and Robin were both surprised as well. "Well, I think that proves it, she's definitely a Bat," the redhead muttered half-heartedly.

"There!" Robin suddenly shouted, pointing a finger. Jerking around to look at the younger man before turning his sights onto what he was pointing at, he spotted Batgirl standing on top of one of a stack of shipping containers, looking out into the city.

Oh, Nightwing was going to have a talk with this girl the moment he caught up with her. He didn't care if she barely spoke English, it was rude to take a gift from someone and run off with it without so much as thanking them.

"Barbara, get into the container. Robin, we need to go catch up with her before she gets too far away," Nightwing barked out.

"Eh hem," Barbara coughed rudely. "How do you suppose I do that? Crawl?"

The young man winced. And here he was ranting about manners. "Oh, right. Robin, make sure Batgirl over there doesn't get too far. I'll help Barbara get settled and meet up with you."

"You got it." Robin then scampered off, heading in the direction of their errant partner.

Turning to face an annoyed redhead, Nightwing mentally sighed. This night wasn't going to get much easier.


	14. Lose Your Mind

"Operations are proceeding as planned, Lord Despero. There are pockets of resistance as expected, but they are proving to be minor inconveniences rather than actual threats," the Kalanorian officer reported.

Despero held himself stiffly as he sat in his chair, arms lying on the armrests. It seemed the initial response to his forces had been the best this planet could offer—pity. While it was known that this would be an easy conquest, he had at least been hoping for a challenge worthy of himself. The Kryptonian had shown remarkable power in that regard. If only he had lasted a little bit longer.

However, the same could not be said of his green-skinned companion. He had fallen after one psychic attack, something he expected from non-telepaths. According to the report he had received following his battle, this man had telepathic powers that rose above most of his race's natural talents. Despero had a hard time believing this, reasoning that his underlings were trying to save face.

He would deal with them all in good time.

There was still the matter of conquest, however. "Where is the opposition strongest?" the Kalanorian inquired, his tone stoic.

"On the land mass we currently preside over, the western coast is offering potent resistance," his messenger informed him. "A flying man with a head of fire is holding us at bay. The eastern coast resistance is falling apart, mostly due to your capture of the man in red and blue. The only opposing force is in a city north of here where one of the females seems to be able to emit high-frequency screams to devastating effect. Further inland is a man with the ability to control lightning. These are rather insignificant opponents, Lord Despero."

Coolly, Despero looked at his messenger. "What makes you so confident in that assessment?"

The Kalanorian flinched, his mind becoming rather frightened. "N-no one is more powerful than Lord Despero," he offered meekly.

"This is true," he acknowledged, feeling relief welling up within his minion. "But there is the Kalanorian saying I heard an age ago. _No matter the strength of a Kalanorian, there is always a challenge that will be his undoing._ I am not a fool to disregard such wisdom."

"Of course, Lord Desero."

There was a moment of silence. "Tell me of the other land masses."

"At once, Lord Despero."

* * *

With Barbara safe for the time being, Nightwing, Robin, and their new Batgirl made their way through the streets of Gotham. Well, to be more precise, the two men were riding their motorcycles while chasing down a surprisingly fast Batgirl. She had not once been on street level, swinging through the air and racing over rooftops with great speed. While a motorcycle was clearly faster than any human alive, this girl was cutting so many damn corners on the rooftops that it kept her ahead of them.

It was like she was some sort of costumed bloodhound as she darted in and out of sight. She was clearly looking for something, though Nightwing wasn't too sure what that was. If it was the invading army, then they were definitely taking a roundabout route getting there. All anyone had to do was follow the cloud of smoke rising up into the air to know where they were.

Maybe this girl wasn't looking for them?

Any doubt the vigilante had as to the girl's intent were soon dispelled. Cutting through an alleyway, Nightwing had to come to a stop at the alley's mouth, Robin skidding behind him and lightly bumping into his back tire. Killing the engine, the older man swung his himself off his bike and crouched by the corner, peering out into the street.

A crowd of men—eight, maybe ten of them—with those laser guns were marching down the street, blasting at the buildings around them and raucously laughing. Well, they were obviously having a good time.

That's when Robin popped up next to him. "So, what's our plan?" the younger vigilante asked.

Now that was something Nightwing had been working on since they had left the shipping yard. Mainly, he wanted to see just what this mystery girl could do. She had training, that much was obvious, but his gut was telling him that there was something more to her. The idea that he'd let her have first dibs at the first sign of action had become a very enticing one.

That's when he noticed a grapple line streak through the sky, the form of Batgirl swinging downwards on the unsuspecting men. Placing his hand on Robin's shoulder, Nightwing said, "We stay here. I want to see what she can do."

Seeing as Robin didn't argue, Nightwing took that to mean the youth was just as curious about their new "friend" as he was.

As Batgirl descended to her targets, she suddenly let go of her grapple instead of using it to swing right into the men, much like Nightwing would have done. Instead she landed right on the asphalt, rolling head over feet like a little black ball. This put her right between two of the men at their legs. For a single moment it looked as if she were sitting still, just before she shot both of her arms out to her side, delivering sharp chops to the knees of the men next to her. Both of the men cried out as their legs buckled, their laser guns jerking upward as they fired blasted up into the sky.

For an instant it seemed as if everything stopped. The moment ended far too quickly as time sped back up as the dark-clad girl leaped into action. Rolling from her behind and onto her feet, Batgirl launched herself up into the air, flipping over a thug. For a split-second she hovered over his head with her own, her hands lashing out as they delivered chops to either side of his neck. Even from where Nightwing stood, he could see the guy's eyes bulge out of his face before he dropped like a sack of beans to the ground, Batgirl landing on her feet gracefully an instant later.

That was when the gang of gunmen finally got their act together, jerking themselves to look at the smaller girl and aim their high-powered rifles at her. Yet, before any of them could squeeze their trigger fingers, Batgirl had spun around on the balls of her feet, her cape whipping out from behind her as her arm swung out.

Nightwing blinked. Before his eyelids had closed, he had the image of those laser guns trained on Batgirl. When they opened, the guns were flying out of the men's hands, three of them screaming out as they held their hands.

"Holy shit!" Robin gasped next to him. "Did you see that? She just knocked those weapons out of those guys' hands with the batarangs! I mean, that's just like—"

"Like Batman," Nightwing finished for him, eyes narrowing as he continued to watch.

However, just because she had disarmed three of her foes, that left six other guns pointing right at her and there wasn't a moment's hesitation as the men fired the lasers.

Except Batgirl wasn't where they had fired at. In fact she was was off to their left, leaping up into the air and spinning at the same time. Lashing out, she delivered a kick across the face of one of the men, snapping his head to aside as he dropped to the ground.

The moment she landed, Batgirl was on the move, closing in on one of the disarmed thugs. He didn't stand a chance between grasping his hurt hand and her incredible speed. Springing up, she rammed the palm of one of her hands beneath his chin, knocking him clear off his feet and sending him to land head first on the pavement.

However, that left her wide open as one of the goons managed to turn to face her, pointing his gun at her point blank. Nightwing felt his stomach drop at the sight, his body jerk forward to try something, anything to stop what he knew in his gut was going to happen.

His gut turned out to be wrong. The dark-clad girl shot her hands forward, grabbing onto the barrel of the weapon. Using her momentum to her advantage, she swung her legs upwards, yet she did not go into a full flip. Instead it looked as if she were drifting forward through the air albeit upside down and backwards. This allowed her to wrap her arms around her opponent's neck and head.

That's when her legs swung down, gravity providing an assist. As her feet touched asphalt, Batgirl forced the man to bend over backwards, a cry of pain flying out of his mouth. The thug's body couldn't take the sudden change in posture and tried to correct itself—meaning that his legs left the ground and he went into a sloppier, out-of-control flip. Releasing her embrace, the girl let the man crash onto the ground, where he didn't move again.

And then the girl was back in the air, hurling herself at two nearby men. Copying an earlier move, she went into another spinning kick, this one also colliding with the side of one of the men's heads. Continuing to spin, she swung out an arm and chopped the next goon on his neck. Nightwing didn't doubt for a second that both men were out for the count before they even dropped.

That left four more men, three armed and one not. However, unlike their friends they stared at Batgirl for two...maybe three seconds before they dropped their laser guns, spun around, and took off running down the street screaming. Batgirl merely watch them, having stood up to her full, vertically-challenged height.

"I know that Barb is Batgirl," Robin said after a moment, "but I think we need to strongly consider recruiting this girl."

Nightwing numbly nodded in answer. Deep inside, however, he felt that no matter how much they pleaded, that was not going to happen. She was incredible, end of story. He had no idea what rock she had crawled out from under, but he had a strong feeling that she was going to return to it once this night was over. Whether she came back out was up to someone else entirely.

And he felt that person wouldn't be denying her help any time soon.

* * *

He was cold, not an unusual sensation for him. Feeling the chill pervade his body inside and out was something Bruce was used to. The cave was a natural incubator for such despite his endeavors to make it habitable. Lord Despero had once commented that—

 _Lord Despero?_

For some reason, that name didn't belong there. There wasn't a man, human or otherwise, he deigned to regard as a Lord, even over him. Such recognition was earned, not given upon sight. This Despero, despite his might, hadn't earned it, not in his eyes.

But he was working on it.

That was commendable, especially since Despero had encouraged his building of his headquarters beneath Wayne Manor. _No._ Despero didn't know about the cave. He had never been to Earth; Bruce hadn't even heard of such a man, not until his encounter with the alien Frenzay.

Even now he could see the alien bursting into flames, his voice proclaiming Despero's name. That was to inform him of who he worked for, a presence that he had only known from a distance. Yes, that made sense. He had taken on the role as a scout, the name of his benefactor going unnamed in the event he was captured. He studied Earth all this time, especially the ones with powers. They were threats no matter how good their intentions.

In fact, Bruce had gone a step further and developed plans to eliminate them should they prove to be the threats he feared. Despero had been pleased upon finding this out, commending his initiative.

Then, for a brief moment, Bruce felt something sharp in his mind. It was brief and vanished all too quickly. A presence pulled away as if burned. Bruce felt empty and dazed by this, unsure what to make of it. Slowly, his senses began to return though, and he felt as if that presence shouldn't belong, that it was doing something to him. He...he needed to see it, to put a name to it. Feeling returning to his body, he could feel his eyelids twitch as he tried to open them.

The presence then smothered him, whispering soothing words at him. It was trying to help him, it claimed. He had been injured and needed to rest while it undid the damage. Something about the need for help didn't sit well with Bruce. He wasn't so invalid that he couldn't patch himself up.

Yet, what if it were mental? That thought stilled his resistance and he could feel a comforting caress within his mind, informing him that this was the case. It was not sure what had happened, but it was searching for the cause.

 _Still searching?_ While Bruce wasn't too knowledgeable about psychic damage, he was very informed on trauma. That sharp spike from before must have been significant. He felt an urge to pull away from it, that it was too early to prod that sensation. Perhaps that was the best. Lord Despero needed him to be at full strength after—

There was that name again. Bruce instinctively rebelled against it. Ignoring the guiding presence, he reached out to that painful stimulus, feeling it burn against him. The presence urged him to leave it, that it was too soon, but he wouldn't have any of it. He needed to know what—

His body exploded with burning, searing pain. He cried out as he was overwhelmed, or at least would have had he not felt some sort of liquid all around him.

 _He was drowning, suffocating on noxious water as his body burn. It seemed an eternity, as if it were all he had ever known. In fact, the fluid was causing the burns. He could feel it constantly stinging against his skin, working its way inside him as pain and rage warred with each other,. Muscle and ligaments screamed as they were seared, blood vessels burning as fluid ran through them.  
_

 _He felt himself moving them, flowing upwards. A sound was growing louder the higher he went, becoming a scream. It felt like fire poured out of his mouth and eyes as he screamed._

 _And then he was standing. Green fluid dripped all over his body, pelting the rocking floor beneath his feet. In front of him were men dressed in head-to-toe body suits, odd-looking goggles in front of their eyes. They were all frozen where they stood, seemingly afraid._

 _His mind burned from the maelstrom of chaos that filled him. Nothing made sense. The corners of his mouth twitched up before a wide smile formed over his face. He gave into the urge to laugh, the mocking sound echoing throughout the cave._

Bruce felt himself gasp. Instantly the presence was on him, pulling him away from the image and pain. Yet, he refused to let it go. That wasn't some random point, it was a memory.

 _I was burning inside and out, madness infecting my head._ He had said that to someone, a woman with wings. She was an ally with him and they had been captured by an alien enemy. The aliens had done something to them, but they were safe now, rescued by Despero.

 _Stop,_ Bruce pleaded in his head. That wasn't how it happened. He felt it wasn't. Yet, the presence was insistent. It was determined to tell him the truth, no matter what he believed it to be. If it weren't for Despero, he would have no purpose; he would not be on Earth, a living weapon forged by his own determination and will. He was motivated by Despero and the purpose he had given him, not the pain of a young boy—

 _...twin gunshots blasted through the night, one after the other…_

 _...pearls rained down on the grimy asphalt, clattering as they spilled…_

Intense rage and sorrow enveloped Bruce, but he held it at bay, burying it inside him. He shielded it from the presence, which had grown strong, trying to pry out what he had hidden from it. Yet, Bruce held fast, the memory of a destroyed child filling him with grief, anger, and sorrow. The burning pain and madness from the previous memory began to mingle with the trauma, feeding it, making it stronger.

Bruce held it for as long as he could hold out. These feelings weren't new to him, so he could leash them, control them. The presence attacking him was chipping away at his barriers though.

If it wanted to know what he felt so badly, then it could have it.

Giving in, Bruce unleashed every last shred of rage and pain he felt, blasting the presence with it. A shrill scream filled his ears then, the young man finally able to open his eyes. Though blurry, he was still able to make out a purple-skinned man hurling himself backwards until he landed hard on his back on the floor. A horrified scream echoed throughout the room as the alien grasped his head with his hands, writhing on the floor. Batman watched until the Kalanorian went still, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head as drool began to leak out of the corner of his mouth.

It was then Batman realized that he was panting, gasping for air. That alien, it had been trying to brainwash him. It made him feel violated, something he couldn't help but grow angry over. Yet, there was a time and place for that—first he needed to figure out where he was.

The first thing that he noticed was that he was still in costume. It seemed the Kalanorians hadn't bothered to undress him, something he was thankful. His belt was still on, so that was also a plus. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite reach for it since his hands were covered in a metallic restraint, completely covering it. The same could be said of his legs as well as a metal band keeping his upper body pressed against some sort of stand behind him.

Glancing around, the vigilante found himself in a rather empty room, a computer console off to his left and the stand he was restrained to being the only things noticeable—aside from the comatose alien on the floor. Twisting his arms and turning his legs, Batman found the restrains were tight and unyielding.

However, he wasn't out of options just yet. "Gauntlets, disengage," he ordered. Immediately, his gauntlets loosened around his forearms and hands. Tsk, these aliens had really underestimated him if they left his suit operational. Leaning to his right, Batman pulled his arm free, revealing his bare hand to air. Leaning to his left, he did the same with his right hand.

Now that his arms were free, the vigilante looked to the computer console. Much like the room that Flash had been kept in, the console only had a couple of buttons. Whatever these Kalanorians were, they were definitely into keeping things insanely simple. Surely there were more advanced systems around here, though the dark-clad man had a sneaking suspicion that if these people had a need for interrogation, they didn't need torture equipment to get what they wanted.

Reaching to his belt, Batman pulled out a bat-shaped shuriken and sent it flying at the computer panel. Hitting one of the buttons, his restrains suddenly unlocked, dropping his gauntlets to the floor as the bar around his abdomen swung away and his feet didn't feel like they were being squeezed. Quickly, Batman pulled on his gauntlets and made sure they were functional, flexing his fingers multiple times as he did so.

Once that was done, the vigilante walked over to the fallen Kalanorian. Kneeling down next to him, Batman began patting down his body, searching for anything that may have been of use. Disappointingly, the alien's clothes were pocketless and thus held nothing of use. Interrogation would be worthless as well considering the alien hadn't stirred since he had collapsed.

However, if this room was a detention center, then it stood to logic that the surrounding rooms were similar to this one. If any of the other Leaguers were captured, he'd find them here.

Standing up, Batman turned and made his way to the door. He had some recon to do.

* * *

The sound of rushing blood pounded in J'onn's ears. He mouth hung open as he gasped repeated for air. He could actually feel fatigue dulling his mind.

"I think we're beginning to make progress," Angash remarked, looking haughtily at the Martian. "You're beginning to tire, which means you're mind can only take so much more. It won't be long now until you embrace Lord Despero as your master."

J'onn's face twisted with loathing, an emotion he had not felt in eons. It wasn't often he let the ugliness of a person's character influence him, but the longer he was in this Kalanorian's presence, the more he found himself feeling negative emotions. "I will never give in," he grunted out.

"You say that now, but you're barely standing—metaphorically, of course. If it weren't for the restraints, you'd be a puddle of goop on the floor, unable to maintain your physical form. No one has withstood the re-education process, not without losing their mind entirely."

"Then prepare yourself for your first failure."

Angash narrowed his eyes. "No, I will not. I believe it is time that we, how do you say, take off the children's gloves. I acknowledge that my telepathy powers are nothing of your caliber, but there are others who far exceed your own. I am going to retrieve one of them and we will see how long you last."

Turning around, the Kalanorian walked towards the closed door. "Take whatever little time you have left and prepare yourself, _ba'glorth_ ," the man called over his shoulder as he reached the doorway. J'onn did not know what _ba'glorth_ meant, but he highly suspected it was something unflattering in Angash's native tongue. Reaching out to a panel, the Kalanorian hit the button for the door to slid open.

Suddenly, Angash's head snapped backwards as he was thrown off his feet. J'onn watched with surprise as the Kalanorian crashed to the floor, grunting a mixture of shock and discomfort. Lifting up his gaze, the Martian caught sight of Batman entering the room, one of his hands pulling out one of his fabled Batarangs. Casually, the vigilante sent the projectile flying at Angash, the batarang a spinning blur of black.

However, Angash was not so easily defeated, his head jerking up at the sight of the approaching weapon. Lashing out, he batted the batarang aside with ease, growling as he began to stand up. "You just made the biggest mistake of your life," he threatened.

Batman was unperturbed by this. If J'onn wasn't mistaken, the dark-clad man seemed most interested in Angash's arm, the one he had knocked aside his batarang with. "I highly doubt that," the man responded, his posture relaxed.

"I am a Kalanorian and you are just a weak human! The odds are decidedly in my favor! You cannot win!" Angash roared.

"I already did."

Angash seemed puzzled before he scowled at the vigilante. With a sure step, he marched towards Batman, ill-will rolling off of his body in waves. Yet, J'onn couldn't help but notice that with each step the Kalanorian took, his stride became more wobbly and unbalanced. Before he even reached the dark-clad man, Angash began to stumble before he fell to the floor, his body bouncing up once before it settled in a prone position.

"What did you do?" J'onn could not help but inquire.

Batman closed the door behind him before he replied, "Sedative-coating on my shuriken. It broke the skin of our friend here and it was all over."

J'onn found himself nodding. He seemed to recall a similar substance being used to apprehend the first Kalanorian they met. Very effective. Keeping his eyes on Batman, he watched as the man approached the computer console and pressed one of the buttons. Immediately, the Martian felt his restrains release him, causing him to stumbled forward and begin to fall.

Fortunately, Batman had quick reflexes and caught him, holding him up. "Are you alright?" he questioned.

"I will be," J'onn answered, taking a moment to compose himself before he straightened out his posture, pulling away from Batman's support. "Do you know where the others are?"

"Hawkgirl and Flash have been captured," the vigilante reported. "I can't say about the others, but chances are that if they've been beaten, they're somewhere around here."

J'onn couldn't help but consider his experience with Angash and what that could mean for the rest of the Justice League. He could withstand the mental assault the Kalanorian used to reprogram him, but he could not be sure if the others could do the same. If they were all indeed captured, it was likely they were under the thralls of Despero now.

"We need to release them as soon as possible," J'onn said. "There is no telling what Despero and his invaders intend on using them for should they fall susceptible to his brainwashing."

Batman nodded his understanding. "I haven't been able to locate Hawkgirl and Flash yet, but it would be better if we had an idea of where to look."

The Martian agreed with that sentiment before his eyes fell onto Angash. "Perhaps he may know," he spoke thoughtfully.

"I doubt we have time for him to wake up just so we can interrogate him," Batman responded. "The sedative dose I gave him should keep him out for hours."

"You're right, we do not have time on our side." J'onn then moved next to Angash, kneeling next to him as he placed his hands on either side of the Kalanorian's head. "I will just have to obtain the answers we seek more forcefully."

Even as his eyes began to glow a brighter orange, J'onn felt that he would have trouble reigning in his negative emotions. He was loath to admit that some of Angash's torture clouded his morals and whispered enticingly to exact some measure of vengeance. However, there were more important things than the injustice done to him.

That didn't mean he was going to be gentle about it though.

* * *

The scene where Batman uses his memories against a mind-altering being was inspired by one during the Final Crisis storyline. Quick synopsis is where Batman is being held captive and the way he escapes is by using his memories as weapons to overload the creature attacking his mind. I always enjoyed that part and couldn't help but include it here.


	15. A Pissed Thanagarian

Batman slowly edged himself to the corner, peeking around it only to see an empty hallway. Eyes darting from side to side, up and down, he searched for anything that remotely looked like a security camera or a booby trap. So far there were none.

That had been par for the course here. Engrained teachings and instinct were hard to suppress, something Batman was finding out on this alien spacecraft. Nothing was like it was on Earth. There were armed guards that did routine patrols, security equipment that monitored entire complexes, keypads that required authorization before allowing entrance—all of this was familiar to the vigilante. Here though, there was none of that. No patrols, no cameras, the keypads were ridiculously simplistic, not to mention the computer systems with their two buttons on the panels.

But, if Batman considered just who he was dealing with, there was some sense to be made. An alien race composed of telepaths didn't need the usual security features. Their telepathy could keep track of any and all visitors and trespassers. The arrogance shown by them also indicated that they believed no one would get free of their holding cells and venture into their ship.

That's the only rationale the Dark Knight could come up with to make sense of all this. So, when up against people that could pick out stray thoughts, it was always nice to have your own telepath handy. The Martian Manhunter, J'onn, was using his powers to cloak their presence, hiding them from even the most advanced telepath.

Glancing behind him, he saw the Martian standing calmly, awaiting his next move. "You're sure this is the way to Hawkgirl?" he questioned.

"I am," J'onn answered, his voice deep and serene. He had, in his own words, forced that information out of one of the Kalanorians, someone J'onn called Angash. Apparently the Martian had been none too gentle. Even now Batman could see the alien lying on the floor, eyes rolled into the back of his head after screaming in agony. It had lasted much longer than the Kalanorian that had tried to influence the dark-clad man's mind and he had begun to wonder just how long the Martian would keep up his digging. Batman was pretty sure Angash was brain dead at this point.

Nodding his acceptance of J'onn's answer, Batman moved into the new corridor, silently moving through it until he reached a T-intersection. Again, he edged himself to the corner and peered around it, searching for any threats.

This time he actually found someone. Floating down the hallway was the Green Lantern, his back to the Dark Knight as he moved away. Eyes narrowing, Batman turned to look to J'onn and said, "We've found the Lantern."

The Martian frowned as he moved around the vigilante to look at his comrade. "He must have escaped his own confinement," he suggested.

That was a thought, but Batman felt that wasn't entirely the case. If the Green Lantern had escaped, he would have been searching for any one of the other Leaguers. So why was he flying so slowly? Why wasn't he checking every single room he came across? Batman and J'onn already knew where two of the Justice League were being kept, but that wasn't necessarily the case for Lantern.

Apparently the Martian Manhunter heard his thoughts, or at least began considering the possibility on his own—the vigilante preferred the second option of the two. "Allow me to probe further," he spoke.

J'onn's eyes glowed a bright orange then, signalling he was reaching out to the floating green hero. Returning his own sight to the Lantern, Batman watched as the man slowed to a stop and just hovered in midair.

Suddenly, Green Lantern whipped around, pointing his ring in their direction and fired a blast of green energy. Both Batman and J'onn jerked back into their own corridor, watching as the energy beam flew right by them. "Something is wrong," the Martian stated.

"Great," Batman grumbled as he pulled out a bat-shaped shuriken. "I take it this isn't Lantern being cautious of people entering his head."

"It isn't. The moment I made a connection, there was something different about him. It was as if—"

"He were serving Despero," Batman finished, receiving a nod from the Martian in turn. "So he's been re-educated. This just made things harder."

"Indeed."

"If I were to distract him, could you sneak up on him and take him out?"

J'onn paused for a moment before he nodded. "Yes, I believe so." Without waiting a second longer, his body went translucent and he drifted into the wall, disappearing into it. That just left Batman by himself.

 _Well, time to get this over with._

Darting into the hall, Batman sent his shuriken flying, watching it spin through the air as it closed in on Green Lantern. In response, the dark-skinned man fired a thinner beam at the projectile, shooting it out of the air without much concern.

However, that kept Lantern's eyes up in the air rather than down on the ground. While he had been shooting down the shuriken, Batman had pulled out a couple of smoke pellets and tossed them low, letting the small marbles bounce and roll across the floor until they came to a stop near the floating man. A second after Green Lantern had shot his energy beam, the pellets exploded into a cloud of white smoke, enveloping the surprise man as he let out a startled cry.

Unfortunately, the smoke cloud only held out as a distraction for barely a second. Before Batman could do anything, a green light began to shine through the cloud. Then, another blast of green energy fired out, the smoke blowing out towards the walls and revealing Green Lantern in all of his glory. Diving back into the previous hall, Batman dodged the beam, landing on the floor hard. This was getting old.

So, he had to use a little more than a sleight of hand trick. Pulling out another shuriken, he pressed his thumb onto its body, waiting for a red light to flash. Forcing himself back onto his feet, the vigilante swung around the corner again and sent the shuriken flying out his foe, fully expecting him to blast the projectile.

Lantern didn't disappoint either. Again, he fired a thin beam at the shuriken, only this time an explosion blasted out, the force knocking the man out of the air and sending him crashing to the ground. Immediately, Batman charged at the fallen man, trying to close the distance between them as fast as possible.

As it turned out, Green Lantern was faster to recover than the dark-clad man had hoped. Jerking his body up, bracing himself with one arm pressed on the floor, Lantern aimed his right hand at Batman and fired another beam, this one forming a giant boxing glove at its head. Unable to stop himself, Batman rammed right into the construct and bounced off of it, landing hard on his back. Letting out a gasp as the air in his lungs was forced out, he tried to regain his breath, tilting his head up to keep an eye on his opponent.

Green Lantern was back on his feet them, walking towards the Dark Knight with his ring glowing brightly. Freezing, Batman stared at the other man, waiting to see what he would do. Unfortunately, there were a lot of things that could happen just based off of what that ring could do. He was at a stand-still.

That was when J'onn emerged out of the floor behind Green Lantern, his body filling in the moment he reached his full height. Almost casually, the Martian raised an arm up and swatted Lantern with his hand, sending the man flying headfirst into the wall. A pained cry came from Green Lantern before he dropped to the floor.

Instantly, J'onn's eyes glowed orange and Batman couldn't help but notice how Lantern's body went limp shortly after. When the green-skinned alien's eyes dimmed, Batman slowly got back onto his feet, wary of their fallen foe.

As if sensing his apprehension, J'onn said, "I have rendered Green Lantern unconscious. He is no longer a threat."

"What about his brainwashing?" Batman inquired.

"I have not undone it if that is what you are asking. We are not in a position for me to safely undo it."

Batman found himself nodding his understanding. They were definitely exposed out in this hall, not to mention any destruction caused by Lantern's ring would have alerted the Kalanorians that something was up. "We need to get moving."

It was the Martian's turn to nod, turning to face the Lantern a moment later. Kneeling down, he scooped the unconscious hero up and hung him over his shoulder. "We are not far from where they are holding Hawkgirl," J'onn informed the vigilante before he began briskly walking down the hallway.

Giving chase, Batman followed the two Leagues, the Martian leading him to another turn and a new corridor. Moving down this one, they eventually stopped at a doorway, one J'onn opened by accessing the computer panel in the wall. The door slid open and they entered the room, finding one identical to the ones Batman and J'onn had been held in.

The only difference in this one was that it held Hawkgirl. The same restraints held her to a stand in the middle of the room. Additional restraints hung from the ceiling, keeping her wings extended out as far as they could go. Eyes narrowing, Batman got the feeling those restraints were meant to stretch the Thanagarian's wings out as far as they could and then further, similar to the rack from medieval times.

Also, unlike Batman's stay in his holding cell, Hawkgirl's mask had been removed, the mask itself tossed onto the floor a short distance away. The winged woman had a striking face, one the vigilante was willing to admit was very attractive. She would've been more attractive if she didn't have any of the bruises on her face, indicating that her Kalanorian guard had gotten physical with her.

"She's unconscious," J'onn said as he closed the door behind them. Though that was easy to tell since Hawkgirl had her eyes closed, Batman appreciated the confirmation since closed eyes didn't necessarily mean that someone was asleep.

As the Martian placed Green Lantern down on the floor, Batman moved towards the discarded mask. Picking it up, he studied it for several moments, turning it this way and that to get familiar with it. "Tell me something," he called out to the Martian Manhunter, "can you read Hawkgirl's thoughts?"

There was a pause before J'onn answered, "No, I cannot. I never have been to be truthful."

"That's what I thought." Turning his attention away from the mask and to J'onn, Batman continued, "Hawkgirl seems to have the ability to keep telepaths out of her mind. I wasn't sure if that was because of her physiology, or if she had a device on her person to do so. I'm guessing the Kalanorians thought it was the latter and removed Hawkgirl's mask."

"That sounds like a reasonable hypothesis," J'onn agreed. "However, because I cannot read her mind, I'm unsure as to whether she had been brainwashed."

"Considering she's still restrained, I doubt she's been converted to their side. They tried to enter her mind and failed. When that happened they searched for a reason, which is why her mask is off. And if those bruises are any indication, they decided to beat the information out of here." Batman frowned at that. "A strange action considering how hands-off they've been so far."

"Yes, very strange." J'onn appeared at the vigilante's side, regarding the mask for a moment before looking to the restrained Thanagarian. "Angash seemed to be the exception among his people. Perhaps there are more with sadistic tendencies."

Batman didn't respond to those words, letting them linger in the air. Eventually, he stepped towards Hawkgirl, raising her mask up and lower it over her head. He was careful to make sure it was on correctly—the last thing either of them needed was an enraged Thanagarian out for blood due to her identity being exposed. The vigilante felt a bubble of humor rising up his throat, something he held at bay. It wasn't too long ago this very woman was warning him about being reckless.

"Can you tell if someone is keeping her unconscious," Batman asked once he took a step away from Hawkgirl. "When we tried to free the Flash, there was a telepath keeping him asleep."

The Martian didn't reply immediately, instead appearing to zone out. It wasn't long though, as the man said, "I do not sense another mind. It is most likely she is unconscious by normal means."

 _Is that so?_ If that was the case, then Batman could handle this. Opening a pouch on his belt, he pulled out a smelling salt. Stepping back towards Hawkgirl, he held the small, white packet in front of the woman's nose and broke it.

The reaction was instant. Hawkgirl's eyes shot open, her nostrils flaring open as she sniffed the salts. Strange, foreign words spewed out her mouth, not a one of them Batman understood, but he got the distinct feeling that he didn't really want to know.

Then the woman's eyes shot right onto the vigilante and she stopped speaking her odd, gnarlish tongue. "What the hell is going on?!" she demanded heatedly, glaring daggers with her eyes.

That's when J'onn appeared at the Dark Knight's side. "Calm yourself, Hawkgirl. We were simply waking you up."

"Well, you sure as Hell did that!" Hawkgirl lunged forward as far as she could go, her body clashing with the restraints. "Get me out of these things," she growled lowly.

A part of Batman wanted to hold off on that request, mostly so that Hawkgirl could calm down. He had a feeling she'd take off the moment she was free and start causing as much damage as she could when they needed time to regroup and plan their next move. He needed to make sure she wasn't going to act recklessly.

"Just a moment," he said, drawing the Thanagarian's increasing ire. "You're not going to rush off and reveal our location to everyone on this ship."

The look Hawkgirl gave him showed her derision. "No, I'm not going to 'reveal our location.' I'm going to crush every skull I can with my mace. No one's going to know where we are until we're right in front of them."

Batman turned to look at J'onn. "Think you can do something to calm her down?"

"Calm? You want _calm?!_ I will break my goddamn foot up your ass to show you how calm I am!"

The Martian returned the vigilante's look. "I suppose I can try something."

Hawkgirl turned her sights onto her friend. "Don't you _dare_ go into my head, J'onn."

"Then calm yourself, Hawkgirl. There is much we need to discuss and not a lot of time for us to do it in."

The winged woman's eyes narrowed, but she surprisingly held her tongue. Amazingly, she began reigning in her enraged emotions. Her breathing was audible, coming out like a bull, but slowly she began easing her pace, becoming more quiet. Her body stilled, no longer shaking from raw anger.

"Okay, I'm calm."

Again, Batman glanced to J'onn, looking to see if this was indeed a calm Thanagarian. J'onn merely nodded his affirmation. Taking that for what it was worth, Batman walked to the computer panel and hit the appropriate button. As expected, the restraints opened, releasing Hawkgirl, including the ones wrapped around her wings. Stepping forward, Hawkgirl hung over, retracting her wings inward before she began to flex and open them out. She then took a deep breath, standing at her full height as her wings spread and reached as high as they could go.

Then she released her breath. "Okay, I feel better now," she stated before she began looking to the two men. However, her eyes soon spotted the unconscious Lantern, who was still slumped up against the wall. "What happened to John?" she asked, attention focused on the Lantern.

"We had to knock him out," J'onn answered her, turning to face the same direction she was. "The Kalanorians managed to control him, something they intended to do to all of us. Batman and I escaped before they could complete the process and it seems they had trouble accessing your mind to do the same."

Hawkgirl nodded. "So how do we undo what they did?"

"That I am uncertain, though I am even less certain of how much time it will take to do what is necessary."

"Then get started." At that, Hawkgirl moved until she was facing the doorway, arms crossing over her chest. "I'll stand guard while you fix GL."

"And what about Batman?"

At the mention of his name, the vigilante turned his attention to the Leagures. Hawkgirl's determination aside, they didn't have much of a plan. There was no telling what could happen with the Martian preoccupied inside the mind of his friend. Should the Kalanorians come to restart their brainwashing of Hawkgirl, things could get rather complicated.

Unless…

"I could provide a distraction," he spoke up, causing both of the Leaguers to snap their heads towards him.

"How about you don't," Hawkgirl immediately retorted. "All you're going to do is get caught, the same thing you were just accusing me of doing. These guys are stronger than the average human."

"We need to buy time for J'onn, don't we?" Batman replied. "At the very least I can lead them away from this room."

"You don't even know the layout of this ship. One wrong move and you could end up at a dead end."

Well, Batman couldn't argue that. Having home field advantage was ideal when trying such a delay tactic. However, he didn't have to argue the point as help came from an unexpected quarter.

"When I accessed Angash's mind, I was able to learn the ship's layout," J'onn spoke up. "I could impart this knowledge to Batman if need be."

Hawkgirl glared at the Martian for a moment before she nodded her acceptance. "That might work." A sigh. "What the hell, it's not like we have a lot of options. Give Batman the ship's layout, J'onn. And you," at this she directed her words to the vigilante, "remember what we talked about earlier. No stupid stuff, got it?"

Batman nodded his head. "Agreed."

* * *

It was a strange feeling. Having information transferred to you through an internal means was a completely new experience for the Dark Knight. One moment there was something he didn't know, the next he knew everything about it without having to force it out of a sobbing criminal. While it left his knuckles pain-free, he wasn't quite sure he liked it.

It was because of this knowledge that Batman was in a ventilation shaft, situated by a vent with Hawkgirl's holding cell door in view. It had been some time since he crawled up into the shaft, waiting for a Kalanorian patrol to show.

So far nothing. That also went for the Leaguers as he hadn't been contacted about J'onn successfully restoring Green Lantern to his normal self. Still, he was used to sitting in a perch, waiting for the inevitable to come to him.

Minutes later he was proven right. Three Kalanorians appeared in his view, two obviously as guards while one had the swagger of an officer. It was time to put in his performance.

Carefully he removed the vent and placed it on the other side of the hole. As the three aliens faced the door, the vigilante moved himself over the hole and dropped through it, landing crouched on the floor. He had made sure to cause as much movement as he could during his descent, if only for his motion to catch the Kalanorians' peripheral vision. The aliens jerking their heads towards told him he succeeded.

Lunging forward, Batman rammed his forearm into the face of the nearest Kalanorian, knocking him into his friends and causing them all to crash into a pile on the floor. In a flash, Batman pulled out one of his remaining sedative-coated shuriken and slashed the arms of the two guards, blue slice marks appearing on their appendages as violet blood began to leak out. The eyes of the Kalanorian guards rolled into their skulls, informing the dark-clad man the sedative had gone into effect.

Grabbing the remaining Kalanorian, he pressed the edge of the bat-shaped shuriken against his neck, glaring at the alien through his narrow, white lens. "Where's Hawkgirl?" he demanded harshly. "Where have you taken her?"

The Kalanorian stared at him passively, a look Batman recognized all too well. This man knew the information he "wanted," but he had no intention of telling him. "Whoever you are, you will not win," he said.

"Perhaps," Batman admitted to him, "but that doesn't mean you won't tell me."

"Whatever you plan to do is nothing in comparison to Lord Despero."

 _Of course you'd say that._ "I wouldn't bet on that," the vigilante warned. "Let me guess, Despero would have you killed, probably in a gruesome, if not violent, way." He snorted. "That's amateurish. Death is final, so naturally your suffering ends when you die. I, on the other hand, don't intend to kill you—but I will do things to you that will make you wish I would. This blade I have pressed against your neck is coated in a poison deadly to humans. Considering you must have a different physiology, I'm rather curious as to what it would do to you, say, if I plunged it into your eye."

No matter how vain this Kalanorian was, Batman could tell his words were sinking into the alien's mind. There was a hitch to his throat, indicating that he had stopped breathing, most likely forgetting to or he had stopped all voluntary nerve processes as he considered the Dark Knight's words.

Unfortunately, the mock interrogation came to an abrupt end then as two more guards appeared at the end of the doorway. The Kalanorian beneath him gave the dark-clad man a haughty look. Perhaps Batman had underestimated this guy. "You were planning to do what with me?" he asked mockingly.

Scowling, Batman nicked the alien's neck, not a deep wound but one that would ensure that the sedative entered his body. Darting up onto his feet, he sent the shuriken flying at the guards, not waiting to hear the cries of surprise as the projectile knocked their weapons out of their hands—which they did. Racing in the other direction, Batman came to a turn and took it.

The chase was on.

* * *

Shayera stared at the door. She had heard a commotion through it and suspected it involved Batman and a contingency of Kalanorians. Already her blood was racing through her veins, demanding she join the fray.

She didn't though, keeping to her post. Part of her wished one the Kalanorians would open the door just so she could cream them. Her mace was securely in her hands, having been tossed into the corner of the room when she had been captured.

Speaking of which, her eyes glance to J'onn, who was kneeling in front of GL, his hands on either side of the dark-skinned man's head. His eyes glowed brightly orange as he did his work, something that had been going on for at least half an hour. Faintly, the winged woman wondered just how extensive the Kalanorians' mind control was to force someone of J'onn's level to labor for so long.

Fortunately, she had a built-in immunity thanks to generations of battle-hardened Thanagarians. At some point in the distant past her people had developed the ability to resist telepathic incursions, something she suspected Batman and J'onn either knew at this point, or were on the way to realizing it. It wasn't something she wanted to broadcast to the others lest she needed an unexpected advantage against them.

Yes, she would fight by their sides, but she was under no illusions that a day might come where she went head-to-head against them. If betrayal could happen within the ranks of the Thanagarian army, after all the battles they had shared together, then it could happen anywhere.

Now, that wasn't to say she was completely immune to psychic attacks. She had seen plenty of Thanagarians suffer against telepaths to think she could go unharmed; it just took extra effort was all, something the Kalanorians hadn't quite realized.

That thought made Shayera scowl. She could feel stiffness in her face, indicating that she had some bruises forming, if not already there. Her "re-educator" had barely prodded her outer mental defenses before giving up and started punching her. That guy was going to feel every last square inch of her mace if she ran into him.

Suddenly, she sensed movement from J'onn, her eyes darting to the Martian. His eyes had dimmed to their normal hue, his hands dropping to his side. "I believe I am finished," he announced.

As if to prove him right, GL began to stir, his eyes fluttering open before he groaned. Raising a hand, he pressed it against his forehead. "My head," he moaned.

"So much for Marine training," Shayera remarked with amusement.

That earned her a glare from John. "Lay off," he growled before he slowly began getting back onto his feet. Dropping his hand from his face, he looked about the room before asking, "Can someone tell me what's going on here?"

"We are aboard the mother ship of the Kalanorians," J'onn informed him. "It seems they wished to add us to their ranks by brainwashing us. I have just undone their efforts towards you."

"Is that why I have a headache?" the former marine asked.

"Possibly, though I'd imagine you have some short-term memory loss."

There was a quiet moment before Green Lantern confirmed, "Yeah, definitely have that. I'm sure it'll come back later." He then straightened out his posture. "So what's the plan?"

"That's simple," Shayera spoke up. "We find the others if they're here, then kick some Kalanorian butt."

John nodded before he added, "Is it possible the others could be brainwashed as well?"

J'onn answered, "It is."

"Then we may have to consider that Diana has already been. She attacked me while we were defending Gateway City. I'm not sure how they got to her through all of fighting though."

Shayera grimaced. That wasn't something she wanted to hear, that one of their strongest members was already on the other side. Still, as long as they were on the subject: "Flash was captured too, but there's no telling where they are with his treatment. They hadn't begun it when Batman and I—"

"Whoa, hold on," John interrupted. "Batman's here too?"

"That's right. He's currently providing a distraction for us so that J'onn could unbrainwash you. So far it looks as if it worked."

The man looked between Shayera and J'onn, looking as if he wasn't sure how he should be reacting to this news. "Any other surprises you have for me?" he questioned them.

"Not unless you know the location of Superman, which I don't."

Two sets of eyes moved towards J'onn. "I honestly don't know," the Martian admitted. "I was unable to come by that information when I entered Angash's mind."

"He should still be fighting if he hadn't been beaten yet," John said. "Which means we need to do the same."

Finally, someone was speaking her language. Hefting up her mace, a smirk appearing on Shayera's face, she prodded, "So what are we waiting for?"


	16. Super Heroine Catfight

The corridor was empty of life or carnage. It was as if no one had been in the hallway for hours, if not days. To J'onn, all that meant was that the Kalanorians were decidedly distracted and they had abandoned this place to investigate the disturbance.

Which was conducive to his and the League's goal. The sooner they put an end to the scheme of Despero, the better. There was no telling what destruction he had wrought upon his arrival on Earth and if it could be quelled in time before something catastrophic occurred. Surely Earth's militaries were preparing for a counteroffensive at this time, which only compounded the urgency to end this before Despero's forces engaged them.

"I take it Batman didn't come this way?" John remarked as they reached the end of the hall, keeping his ring hand up and ready for use. Lunging into the intersecting hall, he aimed his ring in one direction before spinning around to check the other.

"Not necessarily," Hawkgirl replied, her mace held at the ready. "He's probably leading the Kalanorians on a merry chase, so he's not actively fighting them. He could have run through here a long time ago and we wouldn't know."

"True." Then John turned addressed the Martian. "J'onn, are we going in the right direction?"

"We go right," he answered and the three of them did just that. Even here J'onn could sense the overwhelming source of psychic power radiating from within this mother ship. There were plenty of other telepathic minds here, but this one dwarfed them all. This had to be Despero and J'onn had every intent on facing the Kalanorian. He would be ready this time unlike Despero's surprise ambush.

Of course, things could not be in their favor forever.

Up ahead, a wall suddenly burst apart, sending debris crashing against the floor, ceiling, and the opposing wall as smoke filled the corridor. The three Leaguers skidded to a stop, each one prepared to face this new obstacle. Green Lantern's ring sparked with green energy, Hawkgirl's mace coming to life with electricity dancing around its head, and J'onn prepared a telepathic backlash to end this impending confrontation before it ever started.

Unfortunately, neither of them were prepared to see the figure of Wonder Woman emerge from the smoke, steely blue eyes burning into them. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded angrily.

"Here we go again," John Stewart growled, his aura becoming more brilliant in its glow. "Be careful everyone, she's under Despero's control."

"Just great," Hawkgirl muttered under her breath. "I doubt she's going to let us pass, so we're going to have to get into a brawl right here. We don't have the time for that, especially if a guard patrol arrives."

"We don't have a lot of options here," the Lantern shot back.

There was a moment's pause before the Thanagarian said, "Yeah, we do."

Before J'onn could puzzle out his comrade's meaning, the winged woman suddenly spun to her left and let out a loud war cry, slamming her mace against the wall. Just like Wonder Woman previously, the wall caved it, sending pieces of it flying into what appeared to be another hallway. Ruined wires emerged out of the jagged edges of the hole, sending sparks falling to the floor.

"You two go on ahead," Hawkgirl ordered, stepping forward until she was between the two men and the Amazon. "I'll hold her off."

"You must be joking," John rebuffed her. "She managed to take me out, so there's no way I'm going to leave you behind to fight her one-on-one. She'll kill you."

Though he couldn't see it, J'onn could very well imagine Hawkgirl was rolling her eyes at that statement. "That's because you fight by the rules, John. I'm a Thanagarian, we don't fight by any rules other than doing whatever it takes to live another day. Besides, Diana's been bugging me lately. This is my best chances at bruising that pretty face of hers without actually regretting it."

J'onn and John glanced to each other, sharing the same look of skepticism. If Hawkgirl knew their true feelings, she didn't know, or rather didn't care. "What are you two waiting for? Get going!" she barked.

"Don't get yourself killed," John replied then, floating off the floor before darting into the Thanagarian-made hole. Following the Green Lantern's example, J'onn also flew through the air, following his friend. It didn't take much time before a loud war cry sounded off and the ship visible began to shake.

It wasn't long after that John remarked, "Ya know, I'm not too surprised those two decided to fight it out. They've been getting on each others nerves for weeks."

"Indeed," J'onn agreed.

There was a silence. Then, "Who do you think will win?"

"I am not sure. Anything is possible."

A snort. "Just to think, Flash would have killed to see those two in a catfight."

The corner of J'onn's mouth drew upwards. "Indeed."

* * *

Spreading her wings, Shayera leapt into flight, keeping low to the floor as she held her mace with both hands towards her right hip. Electricity began to dance over the weapon's heads, a crackling sound filling the air. The distance between her and Diana shrunk within the blink of an eye, the Amazon just beginning to cross her arms out in front of her, forming an X.

With a war cry, Shayera swung her mace, her Nth metal weapon clashing with the Amazon's silver bracers. Simultaneously, Diana jerk her arms out to either side, parrying the mace away, scattering the force of the blow in all directions. The ceiling above, the floor below, and the walls to either side of them suddenly cratered, the air blowing away from the two women as if in flight.

Immediately, the Thanagarian flared her wings as best she could, the hall being too cramped of a space for to try aerial combat. She backed off just in time for Diana to lunge at her, swinging one of her powerful fists at her, and hitting nothing but air.

One lithe foot touched the floor and instantly Shayera changed directions, charging at her foe and swinging a backswing with her mace. It was Diana's turn to jerk back, dodging the weapon. However, she thrust an arm up and forced it after the mace, a preemptive block should Shayera try another swing. The redhead only realized this when the Amazon closed the small distance between, throwing another fist towards her face.

With wide eyes, Shayera did everything she could to lean her head back as far as she could, even tilting it to a side. Somehow, she dodged the punch, a strong breeze caressing her face as it narrowly missed her. Her feet gave out and she was suddenly falling backwards to the ground.

Just in time for Diana to lash out with her back leg, placing all of her weight on her front one as she landed a solid kick to the Thanagarian's chest. Breathless as the air was forced out of her lungs, Shayera felt herself flying backwards, only come to a stop when her body collided with the floor, skidding across it until friction slowed her down.

Wincing as regained her breath, the redhead opened up one of her closed eyes, then opened them both widely. Above her was Diana, a leg drawn up and was fully intent with stomping it right on top of her. Rolling to a side, the Thanagarian dodged the stomp, catch sight of the Amazon's red boot slamming down on the floor and creating a huge dent at the point of impact.

With her legs crouched beneath her, Shayera took off flying down the hall. She needed to get out of this place and into somewhere more open. The walls and ceiling took away the space she needed for aerial maneuverability, something she felt she was in desperate need of. Glancing behind her, she saw Diana giving chase, flying like a rocket after her.

A growl left her lips. Of course the divine gifts the Amazon's Gods had blessed her with just had to make her fast too. There was no way she could outrun the dark-haired woman, not when the redhead was flying as fast as she could and her pursuer wasn't losing any distance between them.

However, just because Diana was a mythical juggernaut didn't mean she had all of the advantages. For one, Shayera's body had been developed through generations of evolution to be aerodynamic. Her body instantly made adjustments as she flew, accommodating for the currents in the air. Her bone structure allowed for instantaneous flight and decreased weight that may have slowed her flight speed down. If Diana thought she had an advantage in the air, she was sorely mistaken.

Such as right now. Flaring her wings as wide as she could, Shayera killed her speed while simultaneously twisting her body around. Holding her back leg as far as she could behind her, the Thanagarian held her mace high, intending on swinging it the moment Diana was within striking distance.

That distance shrank considerably in the next couple of seconds. The Amazon's eyes widened as she realized just what Shayera intended to do, the woman doing everything she could to slow herself down as she threw her arms up to block the inevitable blow.

Because her attention was aimed high, which also caused her to place her arms high, that left the dark-haired woman wide open for the kick Shayera sent, her foot slamming into her opponent's face. The kick snapped the Amazon's head to a side, leaving her stunned in midair.

That's when Shayera made to use her mace, immediately drawing her extended leg back so she could close the distance between them. She swung her mace down to her opponent's right and then changing her swing into a side-sweep, landing a solid blow to the side of Diana's head. It sent the Amazon crashing face first into the wall, a huge dent forming at the site of impact, cracks spreading out in all directions. Falling, Diana collapsed into a heap on the floor.

Shayera wasn't fooled though. She had seen the Amazon get hit by blows far stronger than what she had done and shaken them off with no problem. That was why the Thanagarian landed on the ground, legs spread apart as she hefted her mace high above her head with both hands. She was going to keep bludgeoning until she was sure her friend wasn't a threat anymore.

Unfortunately, she had made a mistaken in landing too close to the Amazon. Before she could bring her mace down, one of Diana's legs suddenly stiffen, becoming as straight as an arrow. A moment later, that leg swung from one side to another, sweeping out Shayera's feet right out from under her. Letting out a surprised cry, the redhead dropped to the ground, landing on her back hard.

Wincing from the sudden stop, Shayera made sure to keep her eyes on Diana, who unfortunately was back on her feet, keeping to a crouched pose. The only thing the Thanagarian could do was bring her mace up in front of her for defense, even as the Amazon threw a fist at her. Shayera felt the force the blow through her arms and into her chest as she was sent skidding over the floor and broke through the wall she crashed into. The entire time her wings skidded across the floor, the friction causing a burning sensation all over her back. She eventually came a stop, her face twisted with pain.

When she was able to squelch the overwhelming jolts throughout her body, Shayera discovered she had been hit right into some sort of room. It looked like storage to her, what with the shelves lining the walls and various boxes of some sort. There was more space here than the hallway, but it wasn't what Shayera would have preferred if the fight was moving in here.

Which it did. Just as the redhead began to get back onto her feet, another part of the wall burst apart, sending debris flying in all directions. Fortunately none came near Shayera, though she did raise her arms up to defend herself should any piece of shrapnel come flying her way. As the smoke dissipated, Diana emerged into view, striding confidently into the room until she came to a stop.

"There is no need for us to continue fighting, Sister," the Amazon spoke, her voice in that haughty tone that Shayera despised. To her it sounded patronizing, as if the princess knew better and had to show you the error of your ways. "We are on the same side," she continued.

"That a fact?" the Thanagarian retorted. "Who was it that attacked Green Lantern again? Oh right, that was you."

"That's because he was attacking the wrong people," Diana insisted. "Somehow someone had taken control of him and if I had not stopped him, more people would have gotten hurt."

"And which people would that be?" the redhead shot back. "The people of Earth, or the Kalanorian armada that just so happened to be invading from space. Take your time, I'll wait."

A concerned look appeared on Diana's face. "Hawkgirl, we are on the same side. You realize this, right? Don't you remember? Despero sent us here to give assistance to Earth and we had to call for reinforcements."

Shayera perked her head up. While she had known that Diana was under another's control, she hadn't quite realized the extent of the brainwashing. It must have been subtle, using the Amazon's background, thoughts, and beliefs against her, warping them to accept allegiance to Despero. She couldn't tell the difference anymore.

"That's not what you told me when we first met," she pointed out. If this was indeed all mental, she could break the control on her friend by inserting the truth into it. "You said your Gods had chosen you and told you to go out and save Man's World."

Diana gave a sharp nod. "Of course. It was through Despero that I received this message."

"So Despero was on Themyscira? I don't know about you, but that sounds like a decidedly male name to me." Diana's right eye twitched at the remark. "And aren't men forbidden to set foot on your island? _All_ men?"

There was a wobble in the Amazon's posture, indicating to the Thanagarian that her words had scored on some level. "That's...that's right," the dark-haired woman relented, her voice hesitant.

"You even told me once that even Zeus, the King of the Gods, wasn't allowed on the island lest every single Goddess you had smite him. He might be all powerful, but even he can't take on several goddesses at the same time. So what would make Despero special enough to appear in Themyscira and hand you your armor?"

"You're right, he couldn't be there," Diana replied, one of her hands raising up to cradle her forehead. It seemed like Shayera had managed to reach her, but those thoughts were crushed when the Amazon said, "Because he wasn't. I received a vision from him."

 _Damn it._ The Kalanorians were adjusting their control on her— _shit._ Shayera raised her mace high above her head then, electricity appearing around the weapon's head once more. Already Diana was sliding into a defensive stance, ready for a charge.

While irritating, the Thanagarian wasn't ready to abandon reaching out towards Diana's better senses. She just needed more room in case her words proved completely useless and she had to fight again. She needed to keep up this line of rational thinking, if only to convince her comrade to drive out the telepath that was inside her head. Confusion and misdirection would be helpful in that regard.

"Haaaaaaaaaaaaa!" she shouted as she swung her mace down, falling to one knee as she did so. Slamming her mace down on the floor, a ripple of electricity rushed out over the floor even as cracks began breaking up the metal surface. A tremor ran up and down the Thanagarian's legs until the instability rushing throughout the room finally caused the floor to break apart. The sense of falling filled Shayera and she immediately spread her wings to stop herself, hovering in midair as the floor fell in pieces into the room beneath it.

Diana did the same, floating up into the air as the ground she had been standing on broke apart and dropped. Surging forward, Shayera charged at her opponent, both hands gripping tightly to her weapon's handle. Letting out a war cry, she swung her mace at Diana, who used her bracer to block and knock away the strike. Undeterred, Shayera kept up at it, swinging her mace back and force over and over, "Haaa!" screaming out of her mouth with every attack. And over and over, the Amazon knocked her blows away with her bracers.

That was until Diana saw an opening and took advantage of it, leaning to a side as she swung her leg up and made to kick the Thanagarian's head. Quickly, Shayera got her mace up between her and the kick, blocking the hit as Diana's foot collided with the head of the mace. She grunted from the force of the blow, feeling the muscles in her arms quivering.

Then Diana threw a fist at her, something the winged woman could only dodge by dropping herself downward through the air. On her way down though, one of her hands released the mace handle and reached out, grabbing onto the Amazon's leg at the ankle. Though she wasn't physically as strong as her opponent, Shayera still had what Earthlings had come to call meta-level strength, and she used every bit of it she had to pull Diana down after her. Because she had been floating, the sudden change threw the dark-haired woman off balance as she let out a surprised cry.

Stopping her descent at the same time she began swinging her arm down, Shayera sent Diana flying down to the floor below, where she slammed into it with her back. With her other hand, she held it out as far as she could before she swung it down and released her hold on her mace, sending it speeding towards her foe. Seeing this, Diana once again crossed her arms in front of her, letting her bracers take the brunt of the hit. The moment the mace made contact, the Amazon threw her arms apart, knocking the weapon away.

An instant later, Shayera slammed both of her feet into Diana's face, causing her body to arch up as her head pressed down against the floor. Having anticipated her opponent's move, the Thanagarian had shot down to land the blow.

Eyeing her weapon flipping end over end off to her left, the redhead bent her legs before she pushed off Diana's face, leaping after the mace and snatching it out of the air. Flipping feet over head, she landed on the floor in a crouched pose, twisting her body around to keep Diana in sight. The Amazon was beginning to stir, pushing herself up with her hands behind her.

"C'mon, Diana, think!" Shayera barked. "You've never heard of Despero until, what, tonight? Yesterday? And now you've known him ever since you were a fresh-faced girl out adventuring in the world? It doesn't make sense! What would..." Oh, great, what was the name of those goddess? _C'mon, Hol, think! She says it damn near all the time!_ "uhh," she stuttered before one popped in her head. "Would would Hera think?"

A scowl appeared on Diana's face, the Amazon soon leveling her glare at the Thanagarian. Okay, that had been the wrong goddess to use. Which of the many others did Diana swear to should she use?

Then again, maybe some mythical god wasn't the way to go.

"And Hippolyta," she ventured, this time seeing Diana stiffen and freeze midway onto her feet. "She hasn't tolerated any man since...whenever it was your people left for Themyscira. She would have ordered Despero castrated the moment she even thought he meddled with you, much less visited."

She could see Diana considering those words, her eyes wide and...well, she guessed they looked innocent. Then she winced, eyes squeezing shut. She fell forward, her knees knocking hard against the floor as her hands shot up and pressed against her face.

"They're in your head," Shayera continued to say, pressing her advantage. "You've got to fight them, Diana. You're better than this, than them. Force them out."

The entire time she had been speaking, the winged woman slowly edged towards the Amazon. She was wide open and should this mental war going on in the princess' head not go in her favor, she would have to act quickly. Well, to be honest she had no intent on letting this play out, not when she could definitely end the fight instead of holding out on hope.

The moment she was within striking distance, the Amazon still burying her face in her hands, she took the opening. Swinging her mace, Shayera aimed for the back of the dark-haired woman's head.

In an instant, one of Diana's hands shot out, catching the head of the mace before it could collide with her skull. "You...don't have to do that," her tired voice came out, her other hand dropping from her face. Her blue eyes moved over to Shayera's green ones, a friendly glimmer in them. "I kicked them out."

The Thanagarian narrowed her eyes. "You sure?"

"As sure that Despero would be a eunuch if he stepped foot on Themyscira."

A smirk appeared on Shayera's face, the winged woman backing away a step. Her mace left the Amazon's palm easily, which the redhead held at her side—just in case. "Welcome back, Princess."

Diana rose to her full height, brushing aside a few strands of her hair from her face and tucking them behind her ear. "Where do we go now?" she asked. "I fear the others have gone too far ahead to catch up with them."

"Who said we need to find them?" Shayera countered. "They're going after Despero, so if we head towards him we'll run into them eventually. Hopefully the Kalanorians told you where he is."

The smile that appeared on Diana's face told her they had.

* * *

His back pressed against the wall, Batman kept his senses focused on his hearing. Around the corner he could hear alarmed voices and the patter of footsteps. The Kalanorians were still searching for him, but they weren't going to find him unless he wanted them too. Even now he could feel repeated presences sweeping through his head, searching for him. The fact he could detect frustration in the voices he heard told him their telepathic sweeps weren't helping.

Another presence passed through his head and it was then the vigilante reached to his belt, pulling out a ball that comfortably rested in his palm. He didn't think, he just acted, turning his body around to face the wall. With a toss, he sent the ball sailing through the air. Immediately, he turned back around and waited.

A deafening _BOOM!_ rang out, coupled with a blinding flash, all of which he was protected from by his cowl. Pained cries came from the Kalanorians, who were no doubt clutching at ears and eyes from the flashbang grenade. Moving into the corridor, his eyes saw the aliens doing just as he expected. Turning away, he glided down the corridor at a quick, confident pace.

Reaching an intersecting hallway, he made a turn, catching sight of a couple of the Kalanorians pointing towards him. The moment they disappeared from his peripheral vision, he reached to his belt and pulled out a handful of caltrops. He dropped them in his wake, faintly hearing them clatter on the floor. Keeping up his pace, he listened for the approaching footsteps, even as he pulled out a small smoke pellet.

Angry voices shouted at him from behind, but were quickly replaced by howls of pain, followed by several thuds. Batman didn't bother to peak over his shoulder to see the aliens clutching at their feet, but he had no doubt that reinforcements would be arriving any second, leaping over his little trap instead of falling victim to it.

Raising his hand up, he jerked it downwards, sending the smoke pellet down to the floor, where it erupted in a cloud of smoke. Puffs of black smoke wafted in front of him even as he continued to walk, no doubt obscuring the sight of his pursuers. Spotting a door with its corresponding panel up ahead, he marched towards it, hitting the bottom of his fist against the button on the panel. The door slid open as expected and he passed through the doorway, the door closing shut behind him.

The room he found himself in was massive, forming a circle. Computer stations either lined the walls or were scattered throughout the room. A blank screen hung from the far end of the circular room, currently being unused. In the direct center of the room was a throne-like chair, a giant of a Kalanorian sitting in it.

And that Kalanorian was facing his way.

"You are the one responsible for the disruption," the alien stated evenly, resting calmly in his chairs, arms laying on the arm rests. My kinsmen have reported of your presence in my ship—that you made it to the command center is not of little significance." Its eyes narrowed. "You are an Earthling, no?"

Batman chose not to respond, allowing his cape to envelop him and hide his body from sight. Instinct told him that his was no ordinary Kalanorian.

"Your mind is calm, blank of thought. Most interesting," the Kalanorian commended him. "You only let your instinct guide you, a momentary blip in the mental plane. No wonder there was such difficulty apprehending you.

"But now you find yourself in the presence of Despero—and your luck has finally run out."

So this was Despero, leader of the invasion. The vigilante had been right when he assumed this alien wasn't like the others. Watching as Despero calmly stood up from his chair, the dark-clad man retrieved one of his explosive shuriken and began to act—

Suddenly, Despero charged at him with speed that was contradictory of his size. Raising a humongous fist, the Kalanorian leader threw it at him, to which Batman darted to his left, dodging the blow.

However, he missed that the punch was moving at a curved trajectory, moving across Despero's body. The moment his arm reached full extension, the Kalanorian quickly swung his fist across his body and delivered a powerful backhand blow against Batman. The force of the hit sent the vigilante flying through the air, pain radiating throughout his body as air rushed all around him.

The sound of shattering glass, twisting metal, and electricity shorting out filled his ears as his back crashed into a computer station. The vigilante's arms and legs slapped down against the destroyed technology, Batman appearing to hang from the wall, his mouth open wide as the air in his lungs was forced out.

Agony was an understatement at the moment. There was a part of Batman that wasn't screaming in pain, overloading his senses. One moment he was crushed against a wall, the next he must have fallen to the floor, landing on his chest and face. He gasped the moment he could, sucking in as much air as possible.

Dear Lord, what happened to him?

Weakly, Batman moved his arms so that he could push himself up, finding the actual pushing part to be way too much for him. Faintly, he could feel vibrations through the floor, right until a large foot appeared in his sights. Staring at toes that were the size of his head, Batman had a damn good idea of who they belonged to.

The foot moved towards him then, the toes worming between the floor his his left shoulder. Suddenly, Batman found himself thrown up off the floor, a sense of floating filling his broken body. Two hands on either side of this shoulders and clamped down hard, the vigilante letting out a groan as he clenched his teeth hard together.

And then one of the hands let go, moving up to sit atop his head. Trying to make sense of what he was seeing, Batman realized Despero was holding him clear off the floor, his eyes boring holes into the vigilante. Just as he registered what he was seeing, a slit on the Kalanorian's head opened, revealing a third eye.

"Now, Earthling, let's see what's in your mind."

A burning throb suddenly exploded within the Dark Knight's head, more intense than anything he had ever felt. It was overwhelming everything he saw, heard, and felt. A sound was made, starting off low, but growing louder and overflowing with agony. It sounded like someone was screaming, but the dark-clad man couldn't figure out who was doing it.

And then he realized, it was his scream.


	17. Outrage

John should have known something was going to happen. The resistance he and J'onn faced was nonexistent following their separation with Hawkgirl, the two Leaguers flying through the halls and corridors without so much as running into a patrolling Kalanorian. He didn't like it one bit.

Heading down a long, straight hall with an intersection just up ahead, the Green Lantern only had a moment to sense his stomach dropping right before a red blur appeared in his vision. The next instant found the Lantern down on the floor, his jaw throbbing, and with an inkling as to what happened.

The blur shot by him again and John felt his body jerk forward until he was sliding across the floor, his face throbbing with pain. The moment he came to a stop, J'onn landed next to him, letting out a pained grunt.

Not waiting for a third attack, John flipped his body around and pointed his ring in front of him, firing a green beam, which spread out a couple feet away, forming a green-glowing wall that filled the corridor from wall to wall and ceiling to floor. No way was he taking any chances of their attacker getting around his construct.

That's when he saw Flash standing on the other side of the wall, having come to a stop from running. He was staring at the construct, pondering what he needed to do to get around it, or at least that what the Lantern felt he was doing. Flash was normally a very animated person, so when he thought, he took on many different poses. Scratching his chin, cupping a hand against the side of his face, even holding a hand in front of his mouth while his other hand propped the arm up at the elbow were all gestures Flash used when he was truly using his brain. Considering he was standing there straight as an arrow with his arms dangling at his sides, that told John something was wrong.

Which caused John to think of what Flash could and could not do just so he could anticipate the speedster. Right now he felt pretty certain the red-clad man would try to vibrate his way through the green wall, though he'd be sadly disappointed when that tactic failed. There was a difference between a real wall and his construct, where there was a distinct lack of atoms in his, which provided all the space Flash needed to move through when he phased through objects.

"You okay, J'onn?" the Lantern asked the Martian, keeping his eyes solely on their friend.

"As well as I can be," J'onn replied, pushing himself up onto his side as one arm held his upper body up. "Flash is under Despero's control."

"Kinda figured that. Listen, you go on ahead; I'll take care of Hotshot here."

"Are you sure?" the Martian replied with concern. "We're beginning to spread our forces thin."

"We don't have a choice," John answered gruffly. "There's no way either one of us is going to get to Despero with Flash around. He's too fast for both of us to escape, so one of us has to stay behind and keep him at bay. You're the telepath here, so you have the best chance at beating Despero between the two of us. Beat him and maybe Flash goes back to normal."

That was a big maybe at that.

J'onn nodded his understanding. "Very well. Hold him as long as you can." And with that, the Martian took off towards the intersection, making a right as he disappeared from view.

That just left John with Flash. This wasn't going to be easy. "Okay, Hotshot, don't do anything drastic," he warned. "I don't want to hurt you and I know you don't want to hurt me. We can talk this out."

Unfortunately, Flash didn't seem in the mood to want to talk—just another sign that something was wrong with him. He was currently pressing his hand against the construct, feeling it out from what John could see. He then pulled his hand back and formed a fist with it, driving it hard against the construct.

There was not so much as a dent in the wall. It had taken someone of Wonder Woman's strength to crack his construct and Flash was most definitely not in that class of power. That said, he wasn't a complete idiot despite his frequent antics. The red-clad hero punched the wall again, but this time his arm was a blur as he pounded his fist repeated at the same spot. Each blow sounded like a jackhammer to his ears. It didn't take long for the Lantern to realize that Flash was attempting to weaken that one point of the construct until he had broken through. Not a bad idea to be honest, but one John was confident wouldn't succeed.

And as he had expected, all of that punching amounted to little. When Flash stopped, the wall was still holding strong, looking no worse for wear. "Ready to call it a day?" John called out.

Again, Flash didn't answer him, which was starting to unnerve him. The problem with Flash was that he never stopped talking, even when his feet were firmly in his mouth—figuratively of course. He was the kind of person that would keep talking, no matter how much trouble he got himself into, usually at the risk of having super-powered women wanting to silence him with their fists. Diana and Hawkgirl had made their feelings known about that time and again. Yet, this silent Flash was completely different, stripped of the friendly personality that made up who the speedster was.

Suddenly, Flash began to spin around in place, soon becoming a spinning, tornado-like blur. A shrill sound filled the hallway and the blur descended downward. It soon became apparent that the man had drilled a hole through the floor and was now on the floor below. He must have thought he could force his way through the floor on the other side of John's wall.

Allow his construct to fade, John quickly approached the hole, keeping his ring ready as it glowed with power. Peering into the opening, all he could see was an identical hallway with no Flash in sight. The red-clad man was probably going to drill another hole, somewhere behind John's previous lo—

The sudden exploding pain in the back of his head told John just where Flash was, interrupting his analysis.

Crying out, John felt himself flying over the hole and landing on the other side, stars flashing before his eyes. A breeze blew by him, causing the Lantern to jerk his head up just in time to see Flash racing down the hall and making a u-turn to come back. Jerking his arm up, John began firing multiple blasts of energy at the speedster, hoping that one of them would connect.

He was sorely disappointed. No matter where he fired or how big he made the blasts, Flash would dart to one side, then the other, and sometimes outright ducking the beams, all while running at superspeed. In a matter of seconds, something that felt like a foot slammed into John's face and he was once more sailing through the air head first and going over the hole again.

This time, however, John willed himself to stay in the air, coming to a stop midair. Spinning around, he saw Flash running back towards him; yet, instead of attacking, he rushed right by the Lantern, much to his confusion. Turning around again, John didn't wait to see what his friend intended to do, instead forming a giant boxing glove that filled up most of the corridor. Throwing his arm forward, he sent the glove flying down the hallway and, much to his satisfaction, hit Flash with it.

The red-clad man cried out as it was his turn to go flying backwards. Yet, John wasn't finished just yet. Changing the structure of the boxing glove, he willed his energies to surround Flash on all sides before forming it into a large birdcage. Flash hit the green-glowing bars on the backside of the cage before falling down onto the bottom, landing with a _thud_.

"Okay, Flash, that's enough," John warned him, slowly inching his way through the air to bring himself closer to his comrade. "This fight is over. You and I both know you can't phase through my constructs and you don't have the strength or will to overpower it."

That's when Flash shook his head from where he sat and stood up on his feet in the cage, looking it over before he began doing exactly what John warned him not to. Even from where he floated, the Lantern could see the Leaguer vibrate his body and push against the construct, unable to move through it. When the vibrating stopped, he tried to punch the bars, repeating the same results he had when he tried to break the wall construct earlier.

"Listen to me, Flash, you have no way out," John continued. "You've been brainwashed by Despero into being one of his flunkies; you're better than that. You know you would never willingly fight one of your friends."

And then, for the first time since he arrived, Flash said something. "I would if my friends were about to do something seriously bad."

"Bad? Us?" John asked incredulously.

"Yeah. I'm not the one that's been brainwashed, it's you, GL. Despero's been doing nothing but helping us out and you keep fighting him. That's why I'm here, to get you back on our side."

That caused John to scowl. These Kalanorians had done too good of a job ingraining their warped version of reality into his friend. This wasn't a simple "Despero is great, all serve Despero" message. They made him believe he had always served Despero, changing what he had always known into part of Despero's plan. It took some serious gall to play people like that.

Flash then raised both of his arms up, holding them straight in front of him. Slowly he began rotating them in circles, going faster and faster until they were twin blurs. "I'm sorry I have to do this, John," he said, "but you'll be thanking me in a little while."

John wasn't sure what he meant by that, but he learned soon enough. A powerful wind slammed into him, pushing the Lantern back. Gritting his teeth, John willed himself to stand his ground, his free hand moving up to grip the bicep of his extended arm. With every passing second, the wind grew stronger, battering his body, and pushing him back with the force of a hurricane. It was taking everything he had just to maintain his position.

And then he couldn't withstand it any more. Crying out, John felt himself flying backwards through the air, his concentration broken. His ring began to power down, telling him that his construct was fading away. Before he could do anything, his back slammed against a wall, a grunt of pain escaping his lips before he dropped to the floor, landing on his backside.

It took a moment for John to shake off the daze he felt. He had made a mistake in creating a cage with openings—that he didn't respond to Flash's tactic was also on him. Instead of trying to hold his ground, he should've sealed up the gaps. Hindsight was a real pain in the ass at the moment.

Looking up, he could see Flash charging at him, his red form an incoming streak. This was the Fastest Man Alive—as the speedster was proud to say—which left little or no time for him to react.

This was going to hurt.

* * *

J'onn stood tall, a silent warrior amidst a sea of ill-will and intent. Ahead of him stood a small group of Kalanorians, each one equipped with a plasma rifle. They were the source of malice aimed towards him. Each rifle barrel was pointed in his direction, an ominous glow radiating out of the weapons. There would be no prisoner-taking, it seemed.

"Fire!" One of the Kalanorians shouted.

As one, the gunmen fired their guns, searing beams of yellow energy racing towards the Martian. He wasn't alarmed by this in the slightest. Calmly he responded by altered the composition of his body, taking on an opaque tint much like glass. Several beams flew by him, missing completely, though that would not be the story for all of them. The moment the beams connected with him, they bounced off, reflected much like a laser beam to a mirror. The energy blasts ricocheted into the surrounding walls, ceiling and floor, exploding into flames and smoke.

Alarm shot up J'onn spine at the sight of the flames, but he resisted his innate sense of fear. Thankfully the smoke hid him from sight, causing the Kalanorians to cease their fire. It was a testament to how long J'onn had been on Earth that he found it strange the gunfire wasn't continuing. Humans would have continued firing even without a visual of their target. The Kalanorian response differed in that regard.

No matter, he could reflect on such differences at another time. Losing his reflective surface, he then changed the density of his body, his form becoming translucent to sight. Remaining completely still, he began sinking into the floor until he was completely on the level below.

Keeping translucent, the Martian floated forward, following the hallway he found himself in while maintaining his telepathic senses on the invaders above him. He felt them right above his head now, yet he continued to move forward, turning in midair while floating backwards so he could keep their presence always ahead of him.

Finally, he lifted upwards, passing through the ceiling and returning to the previous floor. As he had hoped, the Kalanorians were still facing in the direction he had last been, completely unaware that he had snuck up on them. Returning to his normal density as his form lost its translucency, J'onn raised an arm up and crossed it over his body. Once he reached as far as he could, his arm stretched outward until the bottom of his fist was hovering at the side of the left most invader.

Swinging his extended arm from left to right, his appendage rammed into the side of each Kalanorian head, knocking them clear off their feet and sending them crashing to the floor. One by one he felt their consciousnesses fade away until they were mere blips in his mind. Retracting his arm back to its usual length, J'onn turned away and consulted his knowledge of the ship.

If he weren't mistaken, he was close to the command center of the ship. Spreading out his awareness, he immediately detected the massive source of telepathy, the one he was convinced was Despero. So far his assumption was proving correct.

However, he was quick to note that something was different. It was as if Despero were distracted; J'onn suspected this since his previous probes had informed him of a great force of telepathy in constant observation. Were he not able to mask his presence, the Martian would have been discovered long ago during his first probe.

Something had changed.

Marching forward, J'onn passed door after door until he reached the one that belonged to the command center. His head tilted downward to regard the access panel next to the door, taking note of the two buttons present. Raising a hand, he pressed the appropriate button and the door slid open.

The moment he passed through the threshold, J'onn discovered why Despero was distracted. The gigantic Kalanorian stood towards a side of the round room, both hands grasping a limp Batman. The Dark Knight's face, that which was visible, was frozen in a silent scream, arms and legs dangling like a stringless marionette. From where he stood, J'onn could feel Despero pouring his considerable psychic powers into the man's mind, overwhelming it, crushing it.

"Intruder!" a voice shouted, bringing J'onn back to the room. Unfortunately he was too late to react as a Kalanorian rammed into his chest and abdomen, followed by another and another. They were wrapping their arms around the Martian, restraining him while attempting to drive him out of the control room.

Immediately, J'onn pushed back with his legs, stopping the backward progress in its tracks. His muscles flexed and strained against the resistance, his face twisting into a snarl as he bared his teeth like a ferocious animal. Normally he was not one to display his emotions, but among his kind there had always been a rule to never subjugate another being by means of telepathy. It was considered a moral sin to do so, a violation of the highest order. The sight of Despero doing such was an affront to his sensibilities and he would not stand for it.

He didn't say a word, no warning to ward off the men in his way. Instead, his eyes glowed a bright orange, almost red from the outrage he felt. Lashing out with a psychic backlash, the Kalanorians restraining him were suddenly flung off of his body and sent screaming through the air, bashing up against computers and walls. Like lifeless sacks, they dropped to the floor where they didn't so much as twitch in pain. It was a move the Martian did not enjoy doing, but these men were complicit with their master's wishes, so his guilt was easily ignored.

J'onn's eyes retained their orange red glow, focusing now on Despero's occupied mind. Had Despero been more observant, he would've felt J'onn's attack on his men. Either the Kalanorian believed himself to be untouchable, or his current task was taking more concentration than he expected.

Regardless, that was of little consequence. No more would J'onn let him wreak havoc on the unsuspecting and unguarded. The damage he had done to his friends and the Earth was deplorable and completely unacceptable. If he wished to fight for dominion, he would find a much stiffer resistance than he bargained for.

Stepping to the giant Kalanorian, J'onn made to finally stop this man where he stood.

* * *

The fist hovered in front of John's face. He could practically make out the stitching of the red glove, noticing the slight tremors of it hanging in midair without support. The Lantern blinked his eyes rapidly as if in a daze, unsure that he was seeing what he was seeing.

He knew Flash had been coming, that was about it honestly. The man could move so fast that if he didn't want you seeing him, he could do it, so it was a testament that the Green Lantern had seen his blur charging towards him. The distance between them had vanished in a second, one that John couldn't have used to defend himself even if he had tried. He hadn't even seen the red-clad man throw his punch.

And then, just out of nowhere, he stopped, arm extended and his fist damn near touching his nose. Confusion was a pretty apt description of what John was feeling—after all, a normal person couldn't stop an oncoming train without some sort of super strength and perhaps a touch of luck. At the moment, John felt all he had going for him was luck.

Suddenly, the fist was ripped out of his vision, Flash's body being flung up into the air and to a side. Jerking his head to follow, it was then John realized a long, golden rope was wrapped around the speedster's wrist, having thrown the man off-balance by the holder. Completely helpless, Flash came an instant stop when Wonder Woman caught the side of his head with her hand and simultaneously swatted him down onto the floor. A noticeable _bang_ was made the moment the red-clad hero landed.

Flash had to be stunned by his new situation, seeing as Diana immediately began wrapping her Lasso all over his body, hogtying him with little resistance from the speedster. Finished with her task, Diana stood tall, one end of her Lasso clutched tightly in her hand. At the Amazon's side stood Hawkgirl, holding her mace up at the ready should anything other than Flash being completely subdued happened.

"Good timing," John managed to say after a while, still sitting with his back against the wall. He was feeling too much relief at the moment to get up.

"Are you well?" Diana asked him in return, her blue eyes glancing up to him with concern. That was a heck of a lot better than the Amazon trying to beat him black and blue like last time.

Grunting, John used the wall to push himself up onto his feet. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I can't really say the same about Flash though. They did a real number on him."

"And J'onn's nowhere to be found," Hawkgirl added, her tone not the least bit happy.

"He went on ahead when we ran into Flash," the Lantern explained. "I was hoping he'd get to Despero and undo everything that guy's done, but obviously that hasn't happened yet."

"Assuming that would have worked," the winged woman retorted.

All the while, Diana had remained silent, staring down at their fallen comrade, who was now struggling against his restraints. Flash's body twisted and turn, even seeming to blur as if he were trying to phase right through the rope. Whatever enchantments that were on the Lasso of Truth proved to be beyond that tactic, something John was grateful for, if not slightly envious.

"Perhaps I can try something," the Amazon said after a moment, causing the other two Leaguers to stop their speculating. Kneeling down, the dark-haired woman continued, "The Lasso of Truth compels you to see the truth. We are not your enemies, Flash."

Instantly, Flash's body went rigid, his face twisting with pain. A hissing sound slipped through his clenched teeth. His body spasmed when Diana said, "You have been manipulated by Despero. Whatever has been said to you, forced into your mind, it is all untrue."

The Lasso's glow grew brighter, almost blindingly so. While John was aware that the brighter the Lasso became, the more painful it was to the one tied within its coils, he felt this was something different. It was as if Diana were seeking out the brainwashing within Flash and removing it, eliminating its effect on their friend, but considering the glow, it was burning the man to the bone. It was only his faith in Diana's knowledge of her own weapon that he didn't demand she stop.

"You are a proud member of the Justice League; you have earned the respect of your fellow comrades and the people you protect. None of this was due to the will of Despero. He would sooner see your city destroyed and desolate than to allow it to exist. See this truth and accept it."

Flash's head jerked back as he gasped loudly. The golden glow of the Lasso began to fade then, returning to its normal hue. The red-clad man's chest expanded and contracted rapidly as he panted. "Stop," he pleaded. "Stop, please, I'm me again."

John narrowed his eyes. "Prove it," he demanded, aiming his ring at the man as it sparked with green energy.

"When I imagined Wondy getting kinky with her Lasso, I didn't think she'd use it on me."

The glow of his ring faded and a smirk appeared on John's face. "Okay, I think Flash's back."

Surprisingly, the Lasso's coils slacked around Flash's body, and with one flick of her wrist, Diana released the speedster, her rope looping around itself in midair before the Amazon caught it in its coiled state. As she placed the rope at its place on her hip, Diana said, "I apologize for that Flash. It was the only way we could undo the brainwashing."

"Yeah...yeah...I get that," Flash said as his breathing began to slow down, his arms and legs spread out on the floor as he continued to lay there. "Just remind me not to hide anything from you. I don't think I could survive being charbroiled by that thing."

"Not to interrupt on the moment, but we don't have the time to just sit here and chat," Hawkgirl spoke up then. "We still have things to do."

John nodded. "She's right. We still have to stop Despero. Hopefully we'll find J'onn there too."

"That's not the only thing we need to worry about," the Thanagarian responded. "Despero's been going through a lot of trouble to control all of us. He's been successful with the three of you here. J'onn, Batman, and myself have been unable to resist the brainwashing, but that still leaves one more person."

"Hera," Diana gasped as she realized what Hawkgirl was getting at. "Superman."

The weight of that statement hit John hard. It was difficult enough having to fight Flash; he could barely imagine how he would stand up to someone of Superman's level of strength and speed. While he had no doubt of his own capabilities, just the thought of going up against possibly the most powerful person in the solar system was intimidating.

"So not only do we have to take down Despero, but we have to prevent him taking control of Superman," the Lantern summarized with a grimace. "That's not going to be easy. We don't even know where to find either of them."

"I do," Flash spoke up.

Jerking his head down to see the red-clad man slowly pushing himself back onto his feet, John couldn't help but repeat, "You do?"

"Yeah. After the alien guys managed to get me on their side, I went running around the ship to familiarize myself with it." Flash then added with disgust, "Thought I was being a good little soldier. Anyways, I wasn't able to complete the trip because I ran into you and J'onn—but I did come across where they were holding Superman."

"Now we're onto something," Hawkgirl said, giving the speedster an approving look. "Looks like we'll have to split up again. Two of us will keep going ahead to give J'onn a hand with Despero; the other two will go prevent Superman from being brainwashed."

"I guess I'm in the second group," Flash remarked, "since I know where to find Supes and all."

The winged woman nodded. "Wonder Woman should go with you too, since her Lasso can undo anything the Kalanorians have done to him, not to mention being able to hold her own against Superman should it already be too late."

"Agreed," Diana acknowledged.

"Which leaves me and you to go help J'onn," John finished. "Alright people, we know our jobs. Let's get to it."

* * *

To Guest: That shall be revealed...next chapter! The anticipation must be incredible.


	18. The Mind Of A Bat

The black wall ripped open, Despero pushing the sides apart as he forced his way in.

He had been in countless minds, each of them unique in their own way. The mind was a reflection of its user, the world it created influenced by experience, personality, and circumstance.

The Kryptonian's dichotomous world had been intriguing. Straddling between seeing himself as one of his people and one of Earth had splintered the mind, yet both existed in harmony with each other. Yet, one was always at the forefront while the other lingered within the depths of the mind, its influence growing only when the Kryptonian felt the need for its power. At the heart of the man was the rural upbringing Despero sensed with the heritage of Krypton always lingering at the back of the mind. Until now, Despero had never been inside of an Earthling's mind, so when compared to the Kryptonian's, it lacked the dual identities.

Where Krypton's child had revealed a world of open space and light, the one Despero found before him was bleaker, closed off by crude Earthling architecture. The buildings were to the left and right of the Kalanorian, forming a pathway between them. The ground was covered in filth and garbage, refuse that Despero found revolting. Stepping onto the cold ground, he pressed on into this dark world.

There was little light here, the sky being a void of black. The only light source came from a light fixture extending out of one of the buildings. It was here Despero found his attention focusing. Within the light were four figures. Two were laying on the ground, an adult Earthling male and an adult Earthling female. Standing behind what Despero assumed were corpses was a black, shadowy figure, reminiscent of the man whose mind he had entered. It stood tall, never wavering, its white eyes boring into Despero.

And behind the dark figure was an Earthling child, dressed in what the Kalanorian was informed was expensive Earthling clothes. In fact, its clothes looked just like the adult male's, just smaller and untainted by blood.

This was proving to be a most disappointing affair.

With every heavy footstep after heavy footstep, Despero approached the group of avatars, coming to a stop before them. The shadowy avatar seemed to perk up at his approach, a low, gravely voice speaking, "Stop where you are. Come no closer."

"You do not frighten me, wraith," Despero retorted. "Your power of this realm is nothing compared to the might of Despero."

"You are not welcomed here," it insisted. "Leave or face the consequences of your actions."

Despero took another step forward. "Do your worst," he challenged.

The wraith did not attack him. It stood in place, watching him with piercing eyes. Despero fully expected an attack to come from this quarter, only to have his attention redirected when something grabbed onto his lower leg. Tilting his head down, he gazed at the sight of the adult male grabbing onto his leg, its head twisting backwards at an unnatural angle to look up at him. The adult female contorted her body as well to do the same, dragging herself closer to him.

This was the avatar's best defense? How pitiful. Raising up one of his legs, he made to stomp down on the adult male. One blow should do.

However, before he could follow through, the two adults opened their mouths wide, red light pouring out of the oral cavities as well as their eyes. Enraged roars rang out from their mouths before their bodies launched off the ground. Despero was unable to react as the monsters rammed into him, causing him to stumble backwards as he tried to regain his balance.

Multiple, sharp pains ripped into his back then, the result of what felt like claws digging into his flesh. They were soon joined by the monsters sinking exaggeratedly sharp teeth into his shoulder and neck. A pained cry came out of Despero's lips, which only served to enrage him. Finding his balance, he then crossed his arms in front of him, each hand grabbing onto the back of the monsters.

With his superior strength, he pulled them off of his body, chunks of flesh ripping from him as the bloody meat clung to the teeth and claws of the monsters. "You dare?!" he roared before he slammed their bodies against each other, the feeling of bone crush against each other. Lifting them both up above his head, he then swung his arms down and threw the monsters down onto the ground. Their bodies broke and shattered from the force, going limp as the red glows slowly died out.

Jerking his head up, Despero stared right at the wraith. Stepping on top of the two broken bodies and crushing their bones beneath his feet, he marched right up to the shadowy avatar. The moment he was within grabbing distance, he lashed out with his hand, grabbing the wraith by its chest and hoisting it up into the air. "You _dare?!_ " he repeated his enraged question. "I am Despero, Master of the Flame of Py'tar! Your useless defenses will not defeat me!"

The wraith looked down at him with infuriating calm. "You are in my world now, intruder," it replied coolly.

Suddenly, dark, shadowy tendrils emerged from its chest, wrapping around Despero's arm. The anger the Kalanorian had been feeling began to drain out of him, giving him a moment to realize he had just walked into another trap. The white eyes of the wraith began giving off a yellow glow, right before its entire form launched itself at him, wrapping his large body in darkness.

"You cannot escape," the wraith growled, slowly consuming Despero. A fleeting moment of...of fear began to worm itself within Despero, something he hadn't felt in a long time. "Darkness rules this realm and I am its master. You will be swallowed whole, lost forever in a world of despair and torment."

 _NO!_ Despero's mind cried out. He would not end this way! Could not end this way! Yet, terror began to assault his mind as more and more of his body was covered in the shadow tendrils. It was like an unstoppable infection, slowly poisoning his body and mind, weakening him with every passing moment. The longer it consumed him, the more he lost himself in fear.

 _Please,_ he begged in a silent cry, _do not let me end this way. Py'tar! Protect me, Py'tar!_

 _Py'tar…_

Despero's third eye opened and purple flames began to pour out of it. An inhuman shriek rang out as the wraith retreated from the flames—and with it the sense of dread. Immediately, Despero pulled one of his arms free of the black tendrils, immediately shooting it forward and grabbing onto the wraith's head. "Begone, demon," the Kalanorian growed before he squeezed his hand tightly.

The wraith could not bear the strength of Despero, its head crumbling into it was nothing more than a crushed ball. Its body went still, freezing in place before it went limp and slowly drifted to the ground. It lost its form as it touched the floor, spreading out as a cloud of black shadows before dissipating into nothingness.

Despero scowled at the sight. He had sorely underestimated this mind. While most defended themselves the moment he threatened them, never had one been so insidious as this one. If he had to enter another Earthling mind, he was going to be cautious as he did so. There was no telling what depravities existed in this race.

Yet, his task was incomplete. He had yet to crush this Earthling's mind and he was going to leave it in ruin once he was done. There was no need for an underling with such a mind, not in his forces. He would break this man and leave him a mindless vegetable for the rest of his days.

Tearing his sights away from where the wraith had fallen, he looked right to where the child had been standing, only to find that it was missing. This did not improve Despero's disposition.

Not one bit.

* * *

Faintly, Diana wondered how the Gods would feel if they knew their gifts were only second best.

Growing up on Themyscira, Diana had been trained in the ancient art of Amazonian combat. It had taken many years, but eventually she had risen to become the best warrior on the island. She was stronger, faster, and wiser beyond her years. Her mother had praised her rapid development as a sign of the Gods' blessing.

Then she had entered Man's World and everything had changed.

For instance, though Flash was supposed to lead the way to Superman's confinement, it was obvious he was not running at top speed. She had seen him at his fastest before, where even Superman's eye could not keep up with him and considering she was still able to make out his form, Diana knew he was pacing himself. In contrast, she was running as fast as she could go and never once did she close the distance between them.

It seemed the speed of Hermes came a distant second to the Fastest Man Alive.

That said, Diana had a Hunter's Eye, a courtesy of Artemis, so no matter what turns they made, or how fast Flash could go, she would never lose him—at least, not at these speeds. Following the red streak her comrade had become, they raced through corridor after corridor, Flash occasionally knocking out a Kalanorian patrol. Impressively he never missed a beat even as he lashed out in a flurry of punches that knocked each alien out instantly. By the time the Amazon had reach them, the enemy lay unconscious on the floor, bruises beginning to form on their faces.

Taking a turn, and then another, Flash suddenly came to a stop, Diana doing the same a couple seconds later. She could feel her breathing had increased, her chest visibly expanding and contracting with every breath she took. In contrast, Flash didn't look worse for wear, merely boring a hole at the door in front of them.

"First stop, prison cells, torture chambers, and brainwashed Kryptonians," the red-clad man quipped, followed by, "next stop, jacuzzis, swimsuits, and beach balls."

"This is where Superman is being kept?" Diana asked as she slowed her breathing down, looking at the door as well.

"Either that or there's an actual jacuzzi."

A smile appeared on her lips. It never ceased to amaze her how Flash kept himself light-hearted, even after having his mind twisted and violated. It was a testament to his easy-going self that he could still joke. "If you will handle the guards, I will take care of Superman," she told him.

"Good idea," he agreed as he raised his hands up, taking the time to crack the knuckles of each hand. "I have a few words I want to say to these guys and I'm not in the same weight class as Supes is."

Without waiting for a response, Flash then hit a button on a nearby computer panel and the door slid open. Instantly, Flash burst into the room, a blur of red. By the time Diana had entered the room herself, the red-clad hero had already punched a Kalanorian on the far side, the alien in midair as he began to fly head first into a nearby wall.

Another step and Flash was onto his next opponent, punching him as well, though this Kalanorian was forced downward. By the time Diana took another step, the Kalanorian was a heap on the ground.

Tearing her eyes away from Flash, the Amazon soon focused her sights on Superman. The Kryptonian was strapped to a stand in the middle of the chamber, arms and legs spread out and held down by restraints. Faintly, she could recall Kalanorians doing the same to Green Lantern after she had turned him over to them.

Shoving that regretful memory away, one she fully intended on discussing with John once this matter was settled, Diana was quick to note that Superman was still unconscious. Whether that was due to the Kalanorians changing his memories, or some other means, it was something she was grateful to see. Though she was fully confident in her abilities, if she had the choice between fighting Superman or not, she would always chose the second one. She rather not fight a friend if she had the choice.

As she closed in on her restrained comrade, she noticed a Kalanorian standing right in front of him, arms raised, though they weren't by Superman's head, instead hovering in front of him. If she had to guess, this man was doing the brainwashing and had ceased due to Flash's entrance—at least if his turned head was any indication. He was definitely trying to see what the red blur was, which left him oblivious to Diana's approach.

Pulling a fist back, Diana threw it the moment she was within striking distance, her fist ramming into the backside of the Kalanorian's head. The force of her blow sent the alien flying through the air until he crashed into a wall, collapsing into a heap on the floor like the rest of his fellow guards.

That had been rather satisfying. Turning her attention away from her fallen target, Diana set her sights back to Superman. Reaching to her hip, she retrieved the Lasso of Truth and instantly began wrapping its golden coils around him. Immediately, the Lasso glowed brightly, already seeking out the lies and manipulations done to her friend. The first signs of life appeared on Superman's face as he grimaced, hissing from the burning pain the Lasso was unfortunately putting him through.

"Listen to my words, Superman," the Amazon spoke comfortingly and calmly. "It's Diana. I know you are feeling pain now, but it is necessary. You are in the process of being brainwashed and—"

The sound of a plasma rifle firing reached her ears, coupled with the growing sense of warmth at her back. Without looking, Diana raised an arm up and moved it behind her head. A moment later and an energy beam collided with her bracer, ricocheting off. A surprised cry along with a small explosion told the Amazon that the redirected beam had returned to the weapon that fired it, destroying it on contact and blasting back the gunman.

Returning her hand back to the Lasso, she restarted, "The Kalanorians are trying to brainwash you. Your memories have been altered, telling you that everything you have ever done was because of Despero. That is not true."

The Lasso suddenly flashed with an even brighter light. The moment it returned to its already bright radiance, Diana knew that lie had been removed from Superman's mind. "You are Kal-el, the only survivor of the planet Krypton. You were not sent here by Despero's wishes, but because of your parents. They were the ones that acted to save your life; no council with another, no advice given; it was only their eternal love for you. It was their desire for you to arrive here safely, not his."

There was another flash, but not as blinding nor lasting as long as the previous one. Superman was returning to them, his resistance to the Lasso of Truth ebbing away with every second. That was something the Amazon was grateful for. The brainwashing hadn't had time to settle in the Kryptonian's mind like they had done with Flash.

And speaking of whom, Flash was suddenly at her side, watching as she performed her task. "So, I'm guessing we got here in time?" he asked.

Diana nodded. "Despero is currently leading an armed invasion of Earth. He seeks dominion over this world and many others. You are needed to stop him so that he does not do this to anyone else."

"Pretty sure you want a rematch too," Flash added, which earned him a quizzical look from the Amazon. It turn, he raised a hand up and pointed a finger at his own head as he explained, "I was told Despero kicked Big Blue's butt. Not sure if that's truth or not, but it wouldn't hurt to poke that wounded pride of his."

Diana smirked. "I believe that taunt would work better on myself than Superman."

"Who's the one that's been racing him every year?" Flash responded, a wide smirk on his face. "You wouldn't believe the trash talk we get into."

"I'm pretty sure that's mostly you, Flash."

Flash and Diana turned their heads to regard Superman, who's eyes were open, though his face looked fatigued. "You can't fool me, Supes," the red-clad man returned good-naturedly. "You think I didn't hear how you kept saying how Metropolis is better than Central City?"

Superman looked like he was wanting to deny that, but the Lasso of Truth began to glow brighter. Raising an eyebrow at that, Diana stared at the Man of Steel who began to look sheepish. This only made Flash light up as he cried out, "Ha! Try to deny that, Boy Scout!"

"I can't," the Kryptonian responded, his shoulders sagging. "Diana's Lasso—"

"Compels you to tell the true," Diana finished for him. "And before we release you, we have to know that you are not being controlled by Despero."

Superman turned his head to look at the Amazon. "Like Flash said, I want a rematch with Despero."

Again, she raised an eyebrow.

"And to save Earth."

"Notice which one came first," Flash added eagerly.

"Then we should be getting to work." With a flick of her wrist, the Lasso of Truth unwrapped itself from Superman, automatically coiling itself into loops as Diana caught it. Placing it back on its hook on her hip, she had just returned her sights to her comrade when an unexpected wind brushed up against her, blowing her hair to one side as Superman's restraints opened up. Pulling his arms down, Superman began to rub one of his wrists with the other hand, the reason why escaping the Amazon.

"So, you guys ready to go bust some more alien heads?" Flash asked, leaning up casually against the wall next to the door.

Diana glanced to Superman, who shared the same look with her. Twin smirks appeared on their faces before the Man of Steel answered, "Lead the way, Flash."

* * *

This mind was a labyrinth. The pathways twisted in turn, branching off into a multitude of trails and forming dead ends just as quickly. From the ground, there was no way of finding what you sought unless you knew the maze intimately. In reserve, one could remain hidden as well.

Having ascended to the top of one of the buildings, Despero saw the maze stretch out endlessly as far as the eye could see. There was no way to navigate it while searching for the escaped child, not if he wanted to end this game soon.

Yet, this was very telling of the mind he had entered. This Earthling was secretive by nature, keeping himself guarded by twisting paths and rigid walls. A more open person would have no such constructions, a wide-open expanse that hid nothing. Again, this was a comparison with the Kryptonian. Strange how one of the planet's native felt the need to guard himself while a foreigner was an open book.

That did not mean there weren't landmarks though. Off to his left a portion of the maze appeared in ruin, crumbling from a great blaze. Something terrible had happened in that place, he could sense it. There was another point, much smaller than the ruins, but quite noticeable due to the fact it was created solely of ice. Despero felt a distinct feeling of distrust emanating from the ice structure. On the complete opposite side of the maze stood a tall building, one that towered over all of the structures. This one had a large W at its top, proclaiming some sort of significance. Whatever its importance was, it escaped him.

There were only a few of the landmarks Despero found. Undoubtedly there were others that were either hidden from sight, or were less prominent than these obvious ones.

Still, the child could not hide from Despero. This was not the first labyrinth he had encountered and there were other means of locating that did not involve physical searching. Even now the Kalanorian searched with his telepathy, seeking his prey with his own mind.

So far he had not found the child. No visual, no sound, not even a scent had been obtained. That was alright, he would not fail. The mind that could resist him successfully had not been born yet and it would most certainly not belong to some backwards alien in a backwater plan—

Frantic panting filled his ears. Despero immediately silenced his thoughts, focusing on the breathing. It was soon joined by the steady pounding of footsteps, quick and light, the sound of a youngling running. Tilting his head towards a side, the Kalanorian felt his mind closing in on his target.

 _There._

Eyes snapping open, Despero crouched down before he sprang off the building, launching him up high into the air. This gave him a bird's eye view of the maze below him, an intricate weaving of confusing pathways.

And down one of them was the fleeing child. Leaning forward, Despero flew through the air, slowly descending as he closed in on his prey. He quickened his pace to get ahead of the running child, turning his body so he could continue facing the avatar. A glance to the maze told him there was an intersecting path, one that gave the boy a choice of turning left or right.

He would not get to make that choice.

Dropping down like a stone, Despero landed a short distance in front of the child, his weight causing the ground to buckle and crack, piece of grey stone jutting upward all around him. The child skidded to a stop, leaning backward in an attempt to kill his momentum. This brought him too close to the Kalanorian though, an error he would not live to tell about.

Lunging forward, Despero grabbed at the boy, managing to get his large fingers to clutch the Earthian clothing the avatar wore. Twisting his wrist around, he then raised the child up, holding him several feet off the ground. "Nowhere left to run now," Despero grunted, staring impassively at his capture quarry.

A look of terror was on the avatar's face, his small hands grasping at Despero larger one. "You don't have to do this," it pleaded with fear.

"But I will," Despero responded. "There has never been a mind that resisted me entirely and you will be no different. Your obstacles, creative though they were, were mere inconveniences and delayed the inevitable. Just know that I bear you no ill-will and will see to it that you do not have to live with your failure."

"I...I don't want to die!" the avatar cried, droplets of water forming at its eyes. "I don't wanna! I don't wanna! I just...I just want… my…" it trailed off.

Then, its eyes grew wide, a violet light emanating from them. Before Despero could react, a searing pain burned into his hand, causing him to jerk his hand away in surprise. An instant later, a violet aura exploded from the avatar, raging around it while its force knocked the Kalanorian back a step.

As sudden as it began, it ended, the avatar's aura disappearing into thin air. The child hovered in midair, looking exhausted before it dropped to the ground and landing with a dull _thud._ Staring at it, Despero glanced to his hand and was slightly astonished to see burn marks on his palm.

This was new.

Returning his eyes to the fallen being, he watched it dispassionately before he closed the distance between it and him. "Most impressive," he commended the avatar, kneeling down to grab it once more. This time he wrapped his fingers around its scrawny neck and lifted up, the child's body dangling below.

"It is not often a mind resists me with its emotions," Despero remarked. "You rage was used most advantageous, leading to a trap of fear. They lingered long after they revealed themselves. Even your use of love was noteworthy; yet, despite its strength, it is a fleeting emotion. Like a burning candle at it end of its wick, it shines with beauty, but ends just as quickly as it begun.

"But now it is over. You have no more defenses to hide from me. Take comfort in the fact that I will reminisce about you from time to time."

Without further delay, Despero squeezed his hand, a gasping sound coming out of the avatar's mouth. It's body cringed and broke beneath his grasp, but it would not escape. Applying greater pressure, he made to finish it off immediately.

Suddenly, two green arm wrapped around him at his neck. "You will _not!_ " a deep voice snarled and the next thing Despero knew, the avatar slipped room his grasp as he was dragged away from it. The last he saw of the child was of it falling to the ground lifelessly.

* * *

J'onn was a rational man, calm, collected, and rarely allowed himself to indulge in the explosive manner of emotional release, unlike his comrades. The others were ruled by their emotions, something they were taught and nurtured to do. In contrast, J'onn had been raised to reach for serenity. To do otherwise was to invite chaos among Martian society, something that was frowned upon.

Now though, he could not help but burn with emotional backlash. Anger—no, rage consumed him. A monster of a man was using the very powers J'onn had worked much of his young life mastering and was using it to destroy another with it. That could not be allowed.

It will not be allowed!

Strain filled his muscles as he pulled backwards on Despero, his words uttered mere moments ago fresh in his mind. _You will_ not _!_ He scarcely believed such raw, enraged words had spilled from his mouth, but he knew that he had.

Surprised wafted off of Despero's form, causing him to release Batman from his grasp. With a loud war cry, J'onn twisted his body and sent the Kalanorian flying through the air. The large alien was helpless as he sailed over computer stations and unconscious bodies until his back slammed into the wall on the opposite side of the room. The wall, however, could not take the brunt of the crash and shattered, Despero plunging into the next room with debris raining all over him.

Due to the hole made by Despero's large body, J'onn was able to see him clearly lying on the floor as if there hadn't been a wall to begin with. Turning to fully face his foe, the Martian made sure to place himself between the space tyrant and Batman's body. A glance told him the vigilante was lying still, his usually tense muscles relaxed. It was unknown if the dark-clad man was that way due to unconsciousness, or some other nefarious reason, but for now J'onn would protect his physical body from further harm.

Eyes focused on his foe, J'onn watched as Despero began to stir, pushing himself up onto his feet and standing at his full height. Hostility poured from his body, the scowl on the Kalanorian's face informing J'onn of this man's emotional state. "You dare challenge Despero?" Despero demanded.

"I do," J'onn replied, unable to conceal his dark tone.

"Then you are a fool. I have defeated you once, Martian, and I will do so again."

While it was true Despero had easily crushed him during their first encounter, J'onn was determined to create a new outcome this time. Within seconds of Despero's words, a psychic attack assaulted the Martian, just as powerful as the one that had subdued him previously.

This time, J'onn was ready for it and easily parried it away. A hint of confusion reached him from Despero's telepathic center, only to be replaced with determination. Gathering his own mental energies, J'onn launched his own psychic blast, meeting Despero's next one before it even reached him. While there was no physical damage, the telepathic pathway the attacks collided on was obliterated, closing off that channel permanently.

There was a sense of surprise the Martian felt from his opponent, but that was quickly subdued as multiple psychic attacks were launched. In response, J'onn steeled his defenses. Already he had blocked and equaled the Kalanorian's power. Now he would prove he could take everything he could unleash.

An instant later he felt a rapid battering against his telepathic wall. The blows were fast and strong, yet J'onn did not bow before them. He held his ground, allowing the onslaught to continue until he felt he had made his point. Pushing his psychic wall forward, the telepathic beating began to fade away until he no longer felt the blows.

It was then J'onn felt astonishment from his opponent, something he took advantage of as he powered his psychic wall further away—and faster. Unlike the Kalanorian's previous strikes, this one rang true and the full strength of the wall struck him hard, his body flinching from the blow, so much so that he was forced to take a step back. His face winced from the pain he most surely was feeling.

"Impressive," Despero commended him, his mental guard rising up like a steel wall. Though tempted to break the wall down, J'onn held back another assault. Despero held considerable psychic strength and it would be foolhardy to strike carelessly.

"Your powers are a match for my own," the Kalanorian continued with his praise. "I do believe that if we were to continue, neither one of us would be able to bring the other down—truly an unstoppable force meeting the immovable object."

That was when an eye opened up on Despero's forehead. "It is for that reason that I shall honor you with my full power. I have only done this once before so I promise you will never be forgotten."

A golden wave staring from behind Despero exploded outward, crawling along the walls, floor, and ceiling until they disappeared somewhere behind J'onn. Gone was the command center, instead replaced with what looked like a stone temple. Only him and Despero stood in this place, whatever it was.

Yet, J'onn couldn't help but notice the altar standing behind Despero, a pillar of purple flames rising high out of it. "Welcome, J'onn J'onnz," the Kalanorian spoke with reverence. "Before you stands the Flames of Py'tar. Only I have mastered its powers and wield them as per my desire.

"And it is here where I will leave you to burn."


	19. Flame Of Py'tar

Twin roars rang out, one coming from Despero, the other from J'onn. The two combatants raced at each other, each with an arm drawn back. The moment they reached striking distance, they swung their fists at each other, their knuckles colliding against each other at the same time.

The very air seemed to shimmer around the two as they snarled and scowled at each other. Muscles bulged and strained as each alien tried to overpower the other.

And then the very air blasted away from them, leaving a void in its wake. A powerful wind battered the surrounding walls, the purple flame of Py'tar wavering as it was pushed back. Unable to hold their positions, J'onn and Despero were forced to back off, each searching for sure footing.

Simultaneously, the combatants gained their balance and launched at each other. J'onn found himself throwing his arms up, grabbing Despero's outstretched ones that were attempting to grab him. Catching them at the wrist, the Martian was successful in preventing his foe from latching onto him. Unfortunately, due to the Kalanorian's larger body, he forced J'onn to take a step back, his back arching backwards as he tried to hold his opponent off.

Despite J'onn's strength, Despero steadily raised his arms up, then dropped them down hard on the Martian's shoulders. A pained cry escaped J'onn's lips as he nearly bent over backwards. Before he dropped to the floor though, the Kalanorian quickly wrapped his arms around his waist, squeezing the air right out of him.

Hauling him up, Despero leaned backwards as he threw the Martian over his shoulder and into the air, sending him flipping end over end repeatedly until he crashed onto the ground. Grimacing, J'onn laid on his stomach for a moment, catching his breath. However, he wasn't able to do that for long as he felt tremors approaching him through the stone floor.

Face twisting into a scowl, J'onn summoned his power into his eyes before he pushed his torso up and whipped his head around. A bright, white beam fired from his eyes, his Martian Vision burning through the air until it collided with Despero's face. It was his opponent's turn to scream in pain, the blast knocking him back a step as well as spinning him around.

Stopping the beam for a moment, J'onn quickly recharged and fired an even bigger blast, this one hitting the Kalanorian in the back and picked him right off the ground, carrying him away through the air. His unexpected flight came to an end as his front slammed into the wall, causing cracks to spread out from the impact zone. Because he hadn't burst through the wall, Despero was left to land wobbly on his feet, attempting to recover from the successive blows.

Finished with his Martian Vision, J'onn stood up onto his feet before he lifted up into the air. Rocketing towards his foe, J'onn extended his arms out in front of him, ramming them right into Despero's lower back and forcing him back up against the wall. Feet touching down on the floor, the Martian began slamming his fists one after the other into the Kalanorian. With each blow Despero grunted, unable to strike back.

At least that's what J'onn thought right before Despero raised both of his arms up, bent at the elbow as his hands pressed into the wall. Suddenly, he jerked his left elbow back, trying to bash it against J'onn's skull. In response, he raised his arm up and caught the elbow. Movement out of the corner of his eye forced him to do the same on the opposite side, blocking the right elbow this time.

That was when Despero raised one of his legs and pressed it against the wall. Pushing against it, he used the wall to leverage himself off the floor, pushing off of it as he flipped over J'onn's head, and landing heavily behind him. Large hands grabbed the Martian around his shoulders and he was lifted off the ground, and once more sent soaring through the air.

This time J'onn was able to recover his bearings, twisting his body so that he landed on his feet. Eyes up, he saw Despero stomping towards him, looking no worse for wear after their powerful clashes.

"You tickle me, Martian," the Kalanorian taunted as he slowly closed the distance between them. "The Kryptonian hits much harder than you do."

J'onn's eyes flashed orange, not from anger, but to mentally connect with Despero's mind. It wasn't hard considering the surface thoughts of his foe were recalling his fight with Superman. Though he wasn't one for banter during a life-or-death fight, J'onn felt he needed to attack this opponent from multiple angles. Physically, Despero was correct in that he wasn't as strong as Superman and the Kalanorian had proven he had surpassed that level of strength. As for mental prowess, they were equals. Skill, on the other hand…

"He may have, but he also allowed you to hit him more times than I," he returned.

That caused Despero to slow his pace as if caught off guard by the remark. Seizing upon this hesitation, J'onn continued, "As I see it, you have only landed one blow to me. For someone that takes pride in his power, you have done very little damage."

For once, J'onn felt an emotion from his foe: anger. Letting out an enraged roar, Despero dashed at him, his giant form closing the distance between them rapidly. He truly had speed that belied his actual size, but J'onn knew that he was faster. After all, Superman most certainly was.

And J'onn knew from experience that he could keep up with the Man of Steel.

Standing calmly, the Martian angled an arm slightly behind him, hiding it from the charging Despero's sight. Making a fist, it soon changed color from green to a metallic surface, reaching midway up his forearm. Feeling as if he had waited long enough, J'onn leaped forward, using his superior speed to his advantage as he swung his altered fist.

His calculations proved accurate as the sound of pounded steel rang out through the temple as J'onn's fist slammed into Despero's face, the man's head snapping to a side as his body came to a screeching halt.

Arm crossing in front of his chest, J'onn then swung it back, backhanding Despero against the opposite side of his head and forcing him to turn the other way. Allowing his hand to return to its natural form, the Martian jump off the ground, swinging his other fist up and landing a vicious uppercut to the Kalanorian's chin, his head jerking backwards as he was thrown backwards off the floor.

For a moment, the two aliens hovered in midair, J'onn staring down at the stunned Despero. That moment didn't last long as J'onn called upon his Martian vision and unleashed a powerful blast from his eyes, the beam ramming into Despero's abdomen and forcing him hard onto the ground. A crater formed instantly as pieces of stone shattered and cracked from the terrible power.

Ending his eye beam, J'onn stared down at the rising cloud of smoke and dust that enveloped Despero's impact site. For a second, everything was still, quiet.

That ended when a purple glow appeared from within the cloud and a thin, purple beam sliced through the smoke, blowing it in all directions as it revealed the sight of Despero. J'onn was unable to dodge it due to his close proximity, the beam cutting into his shoulder as fire-like pain seared throughout his body. Crying out, the Martian fell back, collapsing onto the floor as his hand reached up and grasped at his injured shoulder.

Through squinted eyes, the Martian glanced to the smokecloud and found that it was being consumed by a purple flame. Rising out of the crater was Despero, shrouded in the flame, looking impassively at him. "I underestimated you, Martian," he said, his voice stony and tight. "For that, I will show you the awesome power of Py'tar. When I am through with you, you will know how terrible it is right before it burns you whole."

* * *

"Haaaaaaa!"

It was a familiar war cry, though considering how much John had heard it in the last ten minutes, it was getting very old. Turning his head, he watched Hawkgirl slam the head of her mace against the face of a Kalanorian patrolman, knocking him clear off his feet and sending him flying down the hall. A quick glance around told him that had been the last one for the time being.

"Ya know, these fights are getting pretty old," the winged woman remarked as she landed on her feet, one of her hands resting against her hip. She then looked to the Lantern and continued, "The first few were exciting, but it's starting to lose its luster."

"What, running out of different ways you can clobber them with your mace?" John returned, earning a glare from the Thanagarian. Smirking for a moment, he got serious before saying, "It would help if we knew where we were going. There's no telling where J'onn went."

"Uhh, yeah, there is," Hawkgirl retorted before pointing right at him—more specifically his ring. "Can't you do a search with that, or is it just for show?"

"Sure I can, but it's not going to help much unless I know what I'm looking for," John shot back. "J'onn was flying, so there won't be any footprints, not to mention the countless ones from the Kalanorian patrols."

That quieted the Thanagarian for a moment. Then, "I guess we might have to interrogate someone."

Looking around them, John could see that any interrogation was not going to happen here, what with all the Kalanorians clearly unconscious. "Next patrol we find, try and save one," he ordered before he began walking down the hall.

"Hey, I'm not the only one bashing brains in," Hawkgirl protested as she followed. Not bothering to dispute that claim considering it was fairly obvious what the truth was, John walked down the corridor, Hawkgirl following behind him in silence until they reached an intersection. As they looked both ways, they quickly found themselves staring to their left. Lying on the floor were more unconscious Kalanorians, all of them sprawled on the floor.

"I guess you're right," John said, earning another glare from Hawkgirl. "Either we're going in circles, or J'onn came through here."

"Here's hoping for the second one," the winged woman replied before taking off, hurrying down the new hall. Going after her, John kept at her pace, stepping around various bodies and body parts. Once they cleared the mess, John was quick to notice a door further down the hall that was wide open, not to mention a strange purple glow coming from it.

"Something tells me we're going in the right direction," Hawkgirl said as she slowed her pace down, raising up her mace to have it ready. Copying her, John held his ring up, letting it spark with green energy.

Slowly, the two Leaguers approached the open door until they stood in front of it. Through the threshold they saw J'onn and who must have been Despero engaged in combat. To be more precise, they seemed to be in mid-grapple, their bodies straining to simultaneously hold off and overcome their adversary. Around them, however, was a purple flames that danced and crackled. That at least accounted for the purple light.

From where he stood, John saw that he had a clear shot at Despero. It was fortunate J'onn wasn't one to let his ego get in the way of ending a fight, so the Lantern aimed his ring at the huge Kalanorian, readying a blast to pulverize him.

"No, wait," Hawkgirl suddenly interrupted him, one of her hands grabbing him by the wrist and forcing his ring hand down.

"What are you doing?" John demanded.

"Something's going on here," the Thanagarian replied, her eyes never leaving the two fighting aliens. "And I doubt whatever attack you were going to do would even do anything."

"We won't know until we try."

The winged woman finally turned her head to give him a look. "Okay, say you do hit Despero. If he's doing something telepathically, there's going to be a major psychic backlash, one that will definitely get J'onn, maybe us too. There's no telling what will happen in that case."

John hesitated at that. Though there wasn't any certainty, Hawkgirl did bring up a pretty good point. They had stumbled upon this scene with no context whatsoever; bumbling in could only make things worse. "So where does that leave us?"

Hawkgirl grimaced as she looked back to the flame-shrouded aliens. "Waiting, I guess."

"Not exactly your strong suit."

Hawkgirl didn't even bother to glare at the Lantern, instead showing how she felt by flipping him the bird. John wasn't sure why he had chosen this time out of all times to mess with the winged woman, but he found he couldn't help himself. Flash definitely would've needled her if he were here.

"There they are!" multiple voices cried out.

The two Leaguers looked in two different directions. From either direction, a group of Kalanorians stood, plasma rifles at hand.

"So much for waiting," John muttered.

"You getting the feeling that these guys are getting desperate?" Hawkgirl asked. "We spent so much time not running into them and now they're pouring out of the woodwork."

"Funny, I was starting to think the same thing."

The two shared small smiles with each other before they returned their respective attentions to the two groups of Kalanorians. Simultaneously, they both charged, Hawkgirl with her mace drawn back and yelling a war cry and John firing his ring to form a battle shield construct.

These guys wouldn't know what hit 'em.

* * *

J'onn cried out as he soared through the air, coming to a rough landing soon after, his body bouncing a few times off the stone floor. Grimacing, he was slow to push himself up.

Whatever advantage J'onn believed he held against the despot had vanished the moment he had shrouded himself in the flames of Py'tar. His strength, speed, stamina, and telepathy had skyrocketed. The Martian was barely able to defend himself against the onslaught and even now he felt his psychic avatar losing stability.

Dull thuds grew louder, their intervals shrinking with every passing second. Jerking his head up, he saw the flame-covered Despero charging at him head on. His body protesting, J'onn forced himself onto his feet, his arms slow to raise up to attempt defensive countermeasures.

It was all for naught as Despero slammed his fist into the Martian's face. Another cry tore out of J'onn's mouth as he stumbled back a step, only to have another punch hit him in the side of the face, snapping his head to a side. Again and again, his head turned from side to side with each blow Despero landed to his face, each one earning a pained cry weaker than the last.

With one final punch, J'onn felt the hit at a higher point of his head, causing him to collapse to the ground. He wasn't even able to rest there for a nanosecond as Despero's leg lashed out, ramming a kick into his ribs and sending him skipping across the floor. The skipping ended with the Martian rolling over and over until he came to a stop. Short, soft gasps were the only thing he was capable of doing at the moment, a tickling sensation from a trickle of blood leaking from his mouth and down his chin slowly began to annoy him.

He was beaten, his strength ebbing out of his body slowly, but surely. Yet, he could not let this fight end this way. The Justice League could not withstand a power such as this when their most powerful members were either defeated, or succumbed to mind control. While the others would surely resist as best they could, they could not withstand the psychic assault this Kalanorian would unleash upon them. They would all end up much like Batman and the world would be left to the tyrant's whim.

Stiff and sore, J'onn began to push himself up. He was out of ideas and his options were dwindling. At least, he needed to discover some weakness to exploit, something he could pass onto the others before he fell. Though he couldn't see Despero, he could certainly feel his approach through the vibrations in the floor. He was coming from somewhere behind the Martian, which left him gazing towards the altar with the flowing purple flame.

The flame…

The altar was shaped much like a cup, the flame dancing and leaping from within its depths. In fact, those flames looked exactly like the ones covering Despero's body. If...if there were some way to extinguish them…

He needed to buy some time.

"Get up, Martian," Despero commanded him. "I was just beginning to enjoy myself. Fight so I can grant you a glorious end."

J'onn's face twisted with fury. "I will not lose!" he shouted as he twisted his body around, firing his Martian vision.

However, unlike the other times he had used it, the beam seemed to have no effect, hitting Despero right in the chest. The Kalanorian continued to walk right up to him, his hand reaching up to hold the end of the blast with his palm. Steadily, he pushed his hand out right until the palm pressed right onto J'onn's face, fingers wrapping around his skull and snuffing the Martian vision out.

"Your beam has no power over me," Despero stated.

That was unwelcomed news. However, that was not J'onn's only option. It was time to stop physically resisting and become malleable. Breaking the bonds of his body, he lost his physical shape and began swarming over Despero, an ooze that covered his arm all the way up to his shoulder. Surprised, Despero took a step back as he raised his arm up, his other hand trying to rip J'onn off of him.

Which was fine by him. This left the Kalanorian oblivious to most of J'onn gathering on his back until he began to reform his upper body, head, and arms. Spreading his arms out as far as he could reach while making fists with his hands, J'onn poured as much strength as he could as he swung them down and inward, his fists slamming on either side of Despero's head.

The reaction was instant. Despero froze where he stood, stunned. Flinging his half-formed, half-liquid body up into the air, J'onn separated from the tyrant put some distance between them, reforming his lower body as he soared. Landing on his feet, the Martian faced the altar for a moment before turning to face his foe. Much as he expected, Despero appeared dazed, his face frozen with a stunned look.

That all changed when the Kalanorian's eyes sharpened. "Don't tell me that is all you've got."

Eyes heating up, J'onn answered, "No—"

He then fired his Martian vision again; however, he didn't aim it at Despero. Instead, the white beam raced to the floor at his feet, blowing a hole into it that began to widened. Surprise lit up Despero's face as his footing vanished instantly and he fell into the growing hole.

"—it isn't," the Martian finished.

Fortunately, it seemed he had bought himself some time, which he did not put to waste. Quickly, he hurried to the altar, his eyes analyzing it with every step he took. Looking around, he didn't see anything that could help extinguish the flame, nor did it appear he could destroy the altar either. That would have required some incredible strength, something he was lacking at the moment.

All it meant was that he would have to get creative.

Though it appeared as a flame, it was not. If it had been, the flame-like aura around Despero would have burned the Martian, which it had not. He could recall each time the Kalanorian had landed a punch or kick to him, never once having felt the dreadful sensation of burning. Yet, he couldn't help but think of ways to put a fire out. Water was an obvious choice, but there was none. The same could be said for soil.

However, just because those choices were not available did not mean their concepts weren't. Water and earth smothered flames by removing their access to oxygen. In that way, if he removed the oxygen from this flame, perhaps it would end it. Again, another search revealed no lid to the altar.

It seemed he would have to make one.

Slowly, the room began to shrink, J'onn feeling himself rising upward even though his feet never left the ground. His body grew taller, larger, while keeping all proportions the same. Soon, he towered over the altar bearing the Flame of Py'tar.

Stepping around it, J'onn reached out to the wall, keeping his fingers as straight and firm as possible. Jabbing them, his fingers pierced through the wall, bending once through and clutching onto the other side. Using his strength he pulled back, cracks appearing all over the wall until a large section broke out. Small pieces of debris fell to the floor, but more importantly, J'onn held a piece of the wall big enough to cover the entire altar.

Turning, he then held out the wall section over the altar, preparing to drop it on top of it. That was when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a purple light, which caused him to tilt his head to focus on it.

Hands grabbed onto the edge of the hole he had created previously. Soon, Despero emerged into sight, hauling himself out of the hole until he stood on his feet. Yet, he froze at the sight of J'onn standing by the Flame of Py'tar. "What are you doing?!" he demanded.

"This," J'onn answered him simply. Releasing his grip, he let the piece of wall fall towards the altar.

"No!" Despero cried out.

With a heavy _THUD!_ the piece of wall landed on top of the altar, sealing off the flame. The dull thunderous sound echoed throughout the room, but ended just as sudden as it was made. Yet, much to J'onn's disappointment, the purple flame surrounding Despero had yet to dissipate. In fact, the Kalanorian looked enraged.

"You dare?!" he roared before he began a running start, launching himself high into the air as he attempted to beat the giant Martian down.

However, that was when J'onn began to see a change. As Despero soared through the air, the purple flames around him began to die out until none were left. It didn't change the expression of rage on the Kalanorian's face, but that didn't matter.

With a speed that belied his size, J'onn raised an arm up and swatted Despero down to the ground. The tyrant crashed onto the floor hard, bouncing once before settling into a heap. For a moment, it seemed as if the man wouldn't be getting up until his body began to stir.

"Wha...what happened?" he gasped, surprise evident in his voice.

Stepping around the sealed altar, J'onn moved to stand over the fallen Kalanorian. "I cut off your connection to the Flame of Py'tar," he answered stoically. Bending down, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around Despero, using his strength to restrain him as he raised the man up into the air.

"It has just occurred to me that we are not where the Flame of Py'tar is," the Martian continued, looking at his much smaller opponent, his head the only thing emerging from the Martian's clenched hand. "We are in fact within your own mind, brought here by your own volition. That altar was merely a representation of your connection to the real Py'tar."

Slowly, he could see Despero realizing just what J'onn wanted him to. Voicing it, he said, "You are just the avatar in your mind and now I stand where you have stood in your victims' minds."

Raising his other hand up, he began to cup it over the tyrant's head. "And now I do what you have done to so many others."

* * *

It happened out of nowhere. One moment John had just finished off his last Kalanorian guard, the next an ear-piercing scream rang out.

Jerking around, he realized the scream was coming out of the command center. _Whatever's going on in there, that better not be you, J'onn,_ he swore before he rushed to the open doorway. When he got there, he saw the purple flame that had surrounded his friend and Despero had vanished. In fact, J'onn was standing calmly, appearing no worse for wear.

Despero was a different matter entirely. He had backed away from the Martian, both of his hands clutching his head as he screamed wildly, horrifically.

Then, he went silent while he dropped to his knees. A moment later he fell backwards, landing on his back with his legs bent beneath him. His eyes were rolled into the back of his skull, mouth gaping wide open in horror.

"Jesus, what did you do to him?" John exclaimed.

Surprisingly, J'onn answered, but not with the answer the Lantern expected. "Despero is defeated," he simply said. "The rest of the Kalanorians will be learning of this soon. With any luck, they will lose their will to fight as well."

As if to counter that, a Kalanorian crashed into the door frame, letting out a pained cry as his body broke. Dropping to the floor, Hawkgirl soon emerged in sight, the head of her mace tapping restlessly against her shoulder. She stopped when she noticed the two men staring at her. "What?" she asked.

That was when her eyes noticed Despero. "You beat him, J'onn?" Upon seeing the Martian nod his affirmation, she smirked. "Then all's well that ends well."

This time, J'onn shook his head. "Unfortunately not." John looked curiously at his friend before he noticed the green man's attention was elsewhere. Following J'onn's eyes, he soon saw the limp form of Batman lying on the floor.

Damn it, a casualty.

"What happened to him?" the Lantern asked after a moment.

"The handiwork of Despero," J'onn replied bitterly, a tone John was unfamiliar with hearing from the Martian. "I was too late to stop his infiltration of Batman's mind; there's no telling what damage was done."

"Then we need to get him some medical attention," John said before he pointed his ring at the vigilante. A green beam was fired, forming a bubble around the dark-clad man a moment later. "Do you know where the others are?"

"They will be with us shortly." J'onn's eyes then glowed a bright orange, returning to their normal hue a moment later. "The Kalanorians have realized that Despero has fallen."

"And?" Hawkgirl pressed as she drew closer to them. "What are they going to do?"

There was a moment of silence, one that stretched much longer than John was comfortable with. Relief washed over him when J'onn finally answered, "They appear to be calling for a full retreat."

A sigh came from Hawkgirl. "Then it's all over."

"Yes, it is."


	20. Represent

**Will you represent?  
Will you stand close?  
Will they shame you?  
Will they blame you?  
There's a consequence  
For the path you choose  
Will they change you?  
Will they make you who you are?**

 **-Represent by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus**

* * *

Dick collapsed against the side of a shipping container. One of his hands clutched his domino mask while he took deep breaths over and over. He was exhausted in body and spirit after last night.

Tim wasn't faring any better, he too sitting against the shipping container across from the older man. Sweat was dripping down his face, his hair dull as it draped down the sides of his head.

Their belts were empty, having been used up in the madness that was those lunatics with the alien weapons. Somehow the two men had avoided being blasted with those dangerous energy beams all while knocking the gunmen out. Surprisingly the GCPD had success too, though they flat out didn't care about making arrests it seemed. The cops had announced a general warning before every engagement before they shot the gunmen. Though the firepower was definitely on the thugs' side, they couldn't use the guns when the air was filled with tear gas.

It seemed there really was a difference between street thugs and trained riot police.

Dick had never been more grateful for his mask than he was during that madness. Lens built into his mask had protected his eyes, though they had done little for his sense of smell. That had only left him partially handicapped as the riot police charged in and beat the ever living hell out of the gunmen with their nightsticks and riot shields.

No doubt the media was going nuts with stories, for and against the GCPD's excessive use of force, but Dick didn't have it in him to make a judgement. Right now he just wanted to curl up in his bed and sleep for a week.

"You guys look tired," Barbara said from their storage unit, staring at them from her wheelchair.

"It was a long night," Tim answered her, not even bothering to look in her direction. "We seriously need to work in some conditioning in our schedule because fighting off a hundred guys is too much."

"You never fought off a hundred guys before," the redhead returned, a smirk on her face. "What do you call jumping off of rooftops and patrolling Gotham? That is your conditioning."

 _It wasn't last night,_ Dick groused in his head. Vividly he could remember Batgirl running all over the city without so much as losing her breath, taking down whole mobs of gunmen single handedly while seemingly without being touched. He and Tim couldn't say that at all. Dick could feel the side of his face swelling—no doubt it would be bruised up later in the day. Tim already had a black eye to show for all the work he did, not to mention the other sore spots and bruises that would be showing up all over their body.

Actually, Dick could not think of one single time Batgirl had gotten hit. It was like she knew what every thug was going to do before they even moved. When they did, the girl had already evaded them and was landing a powerful blow to vital points on their bodies. The young man wouldn't have been surprised if there was some internal injuries in those men.

Speaking of which, Batgirl had vanished as soon as the morning sun appeared. The last he had seen of the girl, she had soared up the side of a building with her grapple and disappeared from sight soon after. She had to be going back to Batman's base, wherever that was. She was going to have a difficult time doing so, he imagined, since the Batmobile was still parked here.

Glancing towards where the vehicle was, Dick found himself blinking his eyes. The Batmobile—it was gone! When...how…

Barbara seemed to have noticed his confusions as she spoke, "That girl showed up awhile ago. Jumped in the Batmobile and sped off." The Gordon girl huffed. "She didn't even bother offering me a ride."

"I doubt she was planning on going for a joyride," Dick retorted snidely.

"Think you're missing the bigger picture, Dick," Tim said. "Barbara's supposed to be somewhere else, remember?"

Honestly, the older man wasn't sure what the younger one was getting at until he recalled one of their biggest worries of the night. Barbara, her rehab center unsafe, needed a hell of a safer place to be. While they found it at the shipping yard, handicapped girls normally didn't hang around such places.

"Crap," he sighed in resignation. "Do we need to take you back to the center, or somewhere else?"

"Well, considering what went on, I doubt I can go to Tim's place now," Barbara replied. "Just imagine him and me showing up at his house. His parents will have a freaking conniption, especially since you guys look like you crawled out of Hell itself."

"So we need a better cover story," Dick affirmed. He sighed again. When did things get so complicated?

"Barbara can't go back to the center just yet," Tim spoke up. "That would raise too many questions, especially when the staff realizes she's not there. As for me, my parents are already freaking out. I'm probably grounded for the next year right now."

"And this is why I live alone," Dick muttered.

That caused Barbara to perk up. "Hey, that might work. The three of us were at Dick's place. Some of the fighting reached your apartment complex and you and Tim got into a fight. That's why you're all beat up. After all, I'm sure everyone would understand you two defending me."

"That's not a bad story," Tim quickly agreed, his head perking up at the idea.

"Except none of your families know you two hang out with me," Dick pointed out.

Tim's shoulders sagged at that. "Oh, right."

Barbara, on the other hand, wasn't one to surrender as quickly. "That's the best story we have going," she said with a shrug. "We did come up with that one story in case we did have to introduce everyone to the others family. I think this is the time to use it."

Dick found he couldn't argue with that. It wasn't like they had much choice either, especially if they wanted to keep their alter-egos secret. Hell, as Barb mentioned they had come up with a story should they have to encounter the families at bad times.

Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that hour, Dick said, "I guess we need to go to my place."

* * *

His mind was slow to work. It took what seemed like forever, but slowly his brain began to function. Eyes closed, Bruce began to become aware of his body. It was a strange feeling as he noticed how still his body was, how slow his chest raised and fell with every breath he took. One moment he wasn't aware he had legs, the next he felt his thigh and calf muscles twitch and alternate between flexing and relaxing.

A groan worked its way up Bruce's throat and he let it out, finally opening his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in any familiar surroundings. The second was that he was dressed in his Batman armor. The third was that he was lying in a bed in his armor and it felt as if he had been there for days.

"I see you are awake."

Batman stiffened at the familiar voice. Slowly, he tilted his head until he could see the Martian Manhunter sitting at a nearby table, his hands resting on what the vigilante soon realized was a computer station. Considering how calm the Martian appeared, Batman felt that they weren't in any pressing danger for the time being.

"Wherrrr," he spoke before he suddenly began coughing harshly. He must have really been out of it if he was having difficulty talking. The dark-clad man was beginning to suspect this was more accurate than he had originally given it credit for. Clearing his throat, he tried again, "Where are we?"

"Happy Harbor," J'onn answered him. "You are presently in the medical bay of the Justice League Headquarters."

Well, that had to be a good thing. They wouldn't be here if...if...what had happened? Batman frowned at the thought. He felt as if there was some danger, yet he could not quite place it.

Apparently, J'onn was able to read his mind at that moment. "The invading Kalanorian forces were repelled by the League with your assistance. Currently there are no more hostile ships in Earth's atmosphere."

That sounded familiar. A feeling of relief welled up within the Dark Knight as he pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed. Glancing to his left and right, he couldn't help but take note that the other beds were unused. "I take it I was the only one injured?" he questioned.

"The others did require some treatment," the Martian responded. Obviously they overcame their injuries quicker than he had. "Yours were the most severe, however."

Batman narrowed his eyes. "How severe?"

There was a moment's pause before J'onn answered, "You sustained heavy psychic damage in a confrontation with the Kalanorian leader. I have spent the previous two days undoing what was done to you."

Already the vigilante didn't like where this was going. "How long was I out?"

"Three days."

Damn it. There was no telling what had been going on during his psychic-induced coma. Unless the criminal element in Gotham was taking a holiday, there was no doubt someone was up to something as they spoke. It didn't need to be said how small of a chance of that happening was.

That would have to be dealt with later; there was something else he had to know. "What did you see in my head?"

J'onn was hesitant to answer—something he really didn't like—but ultimately said, "Unfortunately, I was able to view many things. I understand what I did constitutes a violation of privacy, but it was either doing this and restoring your mind, or allowing your mind to deteriorate until it could not be salvaged."

"That much damage was caused?"

"I'm afraid so."

There was a moment's silence between the two. On the one hand, Batman hated the idea of someone knowing just about everything of him. There were just some things he did not want to share with anyone, period. Yet, if not for that invasion, he probably wouldn't be having this conversation.

"If there are concerns about what I know," the Martian began, "I can promise you that I will not reveal to anyone what I saw."

A look at the man told Batman that J'onn was taking this matter very seriously. It was a relief in all honesty. Faintly, he considered if there had to be someone to know his more intimate secrets, then the Martian was not all that bad of a choice. After all, even with his own observations the man didn't reveal much about himself, or of others unless necessary.

However, before he could say his acceptance of this new status quo, the door to the med bay opened and in entered Wonder Woman. In one hand she carried a tray, a black dome situated on top of it. If Batman had to guess, it was a cover for some sort of food. The Amazon hadn't spared him a glance as she approached J'onn. "If you're ready, I'm here to relieve you," she said humorously.

Batman raised an eyebrow. The Justice League had been taking shifts guarding him? So much for trust.

"I do not believe that will be necessary," J'onn replied, a faint hint of mirth in his voice. "Our patient has roused himself."

That made Wonder Woman snap her head towards the Dark Knight, starring at him with surprise. "When did you awaken?" she asked in astonishment.

"Not too long ago," the Martian answered for the vigilante. "In fact, we had just finished recounting the end of the battle with Despero."

Nodding her head, the Amazon approached J'onn, placing her tray on the computer station. "I've brought refreshments," she informed him before she glanced to the dark-clad man. "Though I am unsure if there will be enough for everyone."

Batman remained silent, just watching the two Leaguers. Upon seeing he wasn't going to say anything, the two continued the conversation among themselves. "Your gesture is much appreciated," J'onn thanked her, though he did not reach out towards the tray.

"If you wish, I can take over," Wonder Woman offered the Martian.

Losing interest, Batman turned to look at the rest of the room, though he soon spotted a nearby door. A glass window in the middle of the door revealed a hallway, indicating that there were two entrances to this medical bay. Glancing back at the heroes to see if they were paying him any attention, to which he was satisfied to say they weren't, Batman gingerly swung his legs off the bed, placing them on the floor. His legs felt weak, mostly due to their inactivity, but he ignored them as he forced his way to the door, exiting the room.

He was more than ready to leave.

* * *

"How has he been?" Diana asked, keeping her voice low as she leaned closer to J'onn. Though she had fully intended on relieving her comrade of his post, she had not expected Batman to have return to consciousness. His unnerving silence was discerning, not to mention J'onn seemed to be very loquacious all of a sudden. It was strange being in the presence of a man that made the Martian seem talkative in comparison.

"As far as I can tell, he seems to be uncomfortable," J'onn replied. "Though that is to be expected since he awoke in a foreign environment."

"Has he spoken about anything?"

"Only to determine the aftermath of our battle with Despero. I was just finishing informing him of the outcome when you entered."

Diana nodded her head in response. That seemed to be in line with what she knew of the man. Considering the state he had been found in and his subsequent coma the last couple of days, perhaps this was an indication that he was being his usual self. Still, if there was any lasting trauma, it would be best to keep an eye on him. He deserved that much.

Turning her attention away from J'onn, the Amazon looked to the bed, only to find it empty. Blinking her eyes rapidly to make sure she wasn't seeing things, she quickly realized that Batman had vanished into thin air. "Where did he…?" she trailed off.

Seeing her confusion, J'onn turned to look, appearing just as startled as she was. Standing up from his chair, his eyes glowed orange, the Martian performing a mental sweep. It seemed to take him longer than usual, but eventually his eyes dimmed. "He's in the hallway, heading—"

Diana didn't bother listening to the rest; she already had an idea of where Batman was going. Tuning her friend out, she headed for a nearby door, which coincidentally was opened a jar—the vigilante's exit point. Pushing the door wide open, she entered the corridor, taking a right and heading down it.

A part of her was annoyed by this sudden turn of events. Any seasoned warrior knew better than to refuse medical attention when they had been injured. Though there was no physical injury, a mental one was just as potent. Fortunately, she knew the layout of this building better than Batman, so she knew the fastest way to his location.

Or at least the one she knew he'd be headed towards.

As it turned out, she caught up with the dark-clad vigilante right outside the Monitor Room. Considering he hadn't moved a muscle in at least two days, it was impressive he got this far. It was because of this that she didn't march right up to the man and physically stop him. Instead, she came to a stop and loudly cleared her throat.

She got the desired effect when Batman stopped as well. "Is there something I can help you with?" Diana asked the vigilante politely, her voice intentionally pleasant.

Batman turned to look at her, standing with his profile to her. "I'd like to go home, if that's not too much trouble."

"I wouldn't recommend that at this time," she returned. "You just woke up from a coma—that's not something that should be taken lightly."

He was undeterred. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather convalesce at home rather than here."

Diana narrowed her eyes slightly, fighting off the wave of disapproval she felt. "Are our facilities here not up to your standards?"

"Not at all. I've been away from home for awhile and there are people I need to check on."

The Amazon took a moment to consider those words. She hadn't known Batman had responsibilities to others. Then again, he could have just meant he wanted to go check on his city and didn't want to say as much. When would Men simply speak their minds rather than use subterfuge?

"By that, do you mean Gotham?" she pressed.

"Partly," the vigilante answered.

"And the other part?"

"Doesn't concern you."

Though she felt like sagging her shoulders in response, Diana's upbringing would not allow such a gesture, so she remained standing straight as she had been taught, refusing to display her disappointment in the answer. "If you insist on leaving, then I will assist you in using the teleporter."

Batman nodded his acceptance before turning to walk towards the Monitor Room. He did not thank her nor offer any gratitude in any way. For some reason Diana did not feel annoyed by this, something she felt she needed to ponder later on. Strange how she was accepting this man's secretive nature. Still, before she sent him on his way, there was one last matter they needed to discuss.

"The rest of the League had planned on talking with you once you were up, but seeing as how that will not happen, I might as well tell you," Diana began, causing Batman to stop once more, though he only turned his head to look at her this time.

"There has been much discussion among the League about your assistance during the invasion and we felt it was in the best interest of all parties that we extend an invitation to you to join the Justice League."

For once, Diana felt as if she had caught the Dark Knight off guard, something she took pleasure in. His mouth opened slightly, though no words exited them. Even though his eyes were covered, she could sense they were wide with surprise. In fact, she took his silence to mean he was honored by the invitation. This was the first recruitment offer extended by the League, something they took quite seriously. A few moments passed as Batman seemed to consider the offer. When he spoke, she was surprised by his answer.

"I'm not really a team player."

For a moment, Diana thought she misheard. Was this man really refusing to join the League?

Then again, from what she knew of him, he should have bluntly said no if he had no intention of joining. His tone seemed to be uneasy, as if he were uncomfortable with being rewarded for his efforts and he was trying to find a polite way to refuse them. That bore some thinking about.

Batman took a deep breath then and let out a sigh as if he felt he were about to regret his next words. "But when you need help—and you will—call me."

So, this was a matter of pride, was it? The Amazon felt the corner of her mouth raise up into an amused smile. If that is how he wished to play this, then so be it. "I'll tell the others of your decision."

Without further delay, the two entered the Monitor Room, and minutes later Batman's form disappeared in a flash of light, courtesy of the transporter. Still looking bemused by the whole situation, Diana casually left the Monitor Room, entering the hallway as she did. She was quick to discover though, that she was not alone.

"So what did he say?"

Turning her head, the dark-haired woman found Hawkgirl leaning up against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest as she regarded the Amazon.

Diana thought about repeating the vigilante's words, but decided not to. "He accepted a...part-time position," she said with a smirk.

Hawkgirl returned the look with one of her own. "So that's how it's going to be, huh? Big improvement from wanting nothing to do with us."

Yes, yes it was.

* * *

As the bright whiteness faded, the Cave filled his vision. It was a welcoming sight compared to the Justice League headquarters.

Unfortunately, Wonder Woman's pestering had been grounded with sound reasoning. Batman felt weak throughout his body, something he had not expected to feel. It seemed to be a delayed response following his departure from the Justice League med bay. Every step he had taken made him feel weaker and weaker. He had fought to keep himself upright when Wonder Woman had confronted him outside the teleportation room.

That had to be the reason why he said what he had.

Grunting, Batman lumbered towards the supercomputer, collapsing into the chair once he arrived. Raising his hands up, he grabbed his mask and pulled it off, revealing his black, shellacked hair. Because the monitor was off, Bruce could see his fatigued face in the screen, not to mention the fading bruises. It seemed he was going to have to send his playboy persona on a vacation to the Bahamas for a week if only so he could get some rest. Heh, perhaps he needed to follow through on that idea and turn a cover story into the truth rather than hiding out in the manor the entire time.

Taking a few moments to compose himself, Bruce eventually reached out and hit a couple of keys on the keyboard. The supercomputer came to life, the familiar drone of the generators turning on filling the cave. The moment the monitor poured light onto Bruce, he began typing on the keyboard.

Immediately, windows began to appear on the screen. Many of them belonged to news reports detailing the alien invasion and the damage caused by it. Reports of an army of thugs and goons with plasma rifles were mentioned continuously, though their threat was mitigated by the GCPD and various vigilantes. Those weapons were still out there and he needed to get them out of the hands of the people who intended very nasty things with them.

That would come later. For now the other vigilantes could do follow up. He could count on the Birds of Prey to do that, the same with Huntress. The Batclan not so much, but then they had been down a member.

Movement from the corner of his eyes caught his attention. It was a testament to how tired Bruce was that he hadn't sensed Cassandra's approach until now. He always knew when she was in the cave, though not for lack of trying on her part. His senses must have been out of whack after being unused for so long.

Tilted his head to a side to regard her, Bruce found himself fully turning to stare. Normally Cassandra wore all black no matter where she was, be it the cave, or the manor. Now though, she was in armor, the yellow outline of a bat on her chest. In her hands was the mask to the suit, her fingers clutching it tightly out of anxiety. He knew that armor even though he never commissioned it—that had come out of a sense of denial from Nightwing and Robin about the condition of Barbara Gordon.

Cassandra seemed different too, her choice in wardrobe aside. Her face was stoic much like it always was, but her body language was a different matter. If Bruce weren't mistaken, the girl was uncertain. She was making herself as small as possible while presenting herself to him, as if she were unsure of how he would react to her, yet wanting him to see the armor regardless.

"Why are you wearing that?" he found himself asking.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, though it wasn't for lack of an answer as much as she was searching for the right expression. Finally, she settled for saying, "Help."

 _Help. Help who?_ Bruce turned from the girl and began typing on the computer. More windows appeared, revealing images from the invasion. There were many that showed the destruction and the maniacal glee of the gunmen, but occasionally there were some of the vigilantes. There were plenty of the Batclan, some of the Birds of Prey, even a couple of Huntress. Yet none of them showed a girl in the Batgirl armor.

Eyes narrowing, the dark-haired man returned his attention to Cassandra. "You went out there?"

She nodded sharply in response.

"How did you?"

If he thought the girl couldn't make herself any smaller, he was wrong as she seemed to shrink in on herself. Already Bruce knew he wasn't going to like the answer. In fact, he began looking to where his car sat almost on instinct.

Even from the supercomputer he could see the damage to it.

Hands tightening into tight fists, shaking from repressed anger, Bruce hardened his face as he returned to look at Cassandra. "Let me guess, you ran into the Batclan and they gave you that armor."

Again she nodded.

This was not what he wanted. The girl was not supposed to be out in the streets of Gotham using her assassin training. There was too much of a risk of her killing someone out of sheer instinct, whether she wanted to or not. She was a powder keg ready to blow should someone unsuspectingly make the wrong move with her.

"There will not be a repeat of this," he told her then. "Take the armor off and—"

"No!"

Bruce blinked his eyes owlishly. He had seen it with his own eyes, but he could scarcely believe what his ears had heard. Gone was the hesitant girl and in her place was a defiant teenager. With a hand, she slapped her palm onto her chest. "Help," she said forcefully.

He must have looked confused because Cassandra repeated pounding her hand on her chest, saying, "Help," before pointing right at him. There was no mistaken what she was getting at this time.

"That's a bad idea," Bruce responded. "I know you have good intentions, but—"

"Help."

"You have no idea what you're trying to involve yourself in."

" _Help."_

Bruce couldn't help but scowl. There was no saying no to this girl, was there? It didn't help that she had gotten a taste of prowling the Gotham streets, something he would have never allowed had he not been busy resisting alien mind control. It was a drug that she wanted more of and wouldn't be satisfied until she received more of it. Already he could see his order to stay in the cave would be fought tooth and nail until he eventually caved in.

The Bat never gave into pressure.

The Bat had never been up against a rebellious teenage girl before either.

Bruce scowled. As much as he was loathed to the idea, he didn't seen any other choice. Either he forbade her from the city and she blatantly ignored his order, or he let her in under a close eye from him. It went without saying how the first option inevitably became the second one. That still didn't stop him from having to say the bitter words that came from his mouth. "You will follow my rules when we're out there. Before you even get a chance to step foot in Gotham, I _will_ know anything _and_ everything you can do. There will be training. It _will_ take time and I won't let you set a foot into Gotham until _I_ feel like you're ready. Then and only then will you go out on patrol—am I making myself clear?"

Cassandra didn't smile, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. She most likely didn't understand what he meant, but she knew he was tentatively giving into her. She would learn that she was a long ways away from becoming a full-fledged vigilante, but she would see her way through assuming this was what she really wanted.

Had Cassandra been a normal girl, this perhaps would have just been a fleeting thought, something she thought she wanted and eventually abandon for other, more desirable pursuits. But she wasn't normal and she would not change her mind at the drop of a dime.

Looking away, Bruce resisted the urge to hide his face with his hand. Someone, somewhere was getting a laugh at his expense. He was sure of it.

And he was pretty sure that someone had a distinct British accent.

* * *

That wraps it up for this story. It's easily the shortest of the series so far, but I'm satisfied with what was accomplished, namely Batman's inclusion into the Justice League, and Cassandra's taking up of the Batgirl mantle. I'd like to extend many thanks to everyone that have read, reviewed, and followed this story. I really appreciate it.

And now, the next story of the series will be following the Justice League again. I'm really excited about this project and I can't wait to get it out to y'all as soon as I can. The title I have is "Death of the League." There's a _biiiig_ hint as to who the villain is right there lol. There still some work that needs to be done on it, but again I want to get it out as soon as possible.

Once again, thanks to everyone who've enjoyed this story.

Until next time,

ShadowMajin


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